The Forgotten One
by Shurtugal-Koma
Summary: When Galbatorix's most trusted servant is captured by Eragon, she will lead him on an journey filled with Danger,Lies,Betrayal, and Love. with secrets revealed eragon will have to answer a final question Who's side is she really on? Please Read
1. Into the Night

Chapter 1

"Into the Night"

It was late in the night, only a few servants and slaves were up at this hour. Among them stood a young woman. She looked the age of seventeen or eighteen. Her beauty was unsurpassed; her eyes shone like deep green emeralds, her hair the color of the darkest hour of night. The train of her long following robe ,which was the same colour as her eyes, draped around her, completely concealing her, except for her head, for her hood was down. The dress she wore was a light jade. It only went to her knees; therefore it was probably designed for riding. Her name was Madrid.

A rough and muscled hand grasped her shoulder. She knew immediately it was Galbatorix. She knew not only because she heard his heavy footsteps, but the air around was always heavy with the magic that he surrounded himself with at all times to make sure he could not be assassinated. They were spells she created or she knew how to recreate. They were spells no one should know, let alone use. They were spells he should never have known were possible. The air seemed to crackle with protest at the darkness; to the trained eye and magic she could see a hazy cloud around him of black and purple. "I thought you would have left by now, as you were commanded." Said Galbatorix accusingly.

Madrid turned to look into his dark eyes. They were harsh, piercing eyes but they didn't frighten her like they did so many. "Don't you dare order me around! Do you forget why I was the one chosen for this mission?" She replied harsh and sharply. "You would have let me rot in that God forsaken prison for all eternity had you not discovered my power." In a whisper she added, "And my heritage."

"You have your father's strength and spirit, but your mother's magic. I respect that." He then bowed mockingly and smirked at his sarcasm.

Ignoring his bow she simply said, "As you should." Anger was hidden beneath her voice as it almost trembled with power. "And you, Galbatorix, you are the most powerful man in all Alegaёsia." Also with sarcasm. "So why do you need me, a girl, doing your most valuable errands? And what about what is outside of Alegaёsia? Surda, Du Weldenvarden, the elves and dwarves…" she paused. She knew what to expect of him when she spoke the next words, "and the Varden?" Galbatorix stiffened at her small rebellion. His stern look became deadly, as he looked into her eyes. Rage boiled inside him. Particles of the air seemed to shake and pop as his face turned red with anger, a vein in his forehead looked as if it might pop, if he could possibly get any angrier with her at that moment. He looked like he would kill her. She knew he would not, because he still needed her, but he was not afraid to beat her within an inch of her life. He had done so before; he would not care if he did so again, even if it did delay her. "What powers do you have over them? I know ….None."

Galbatorix took a threatening step closer. He raised a hand as if he was going to strike her. She knew he would not hesitate, so Madrid did not. She raised a hand and shouted, "Jierda."

As the beam of light left her hand, Galbatorix quickly spat, "Brisingr". Purplish-black fire flew from his hand and made a shield around the front of him, but he was too late. Madrid's magic hit him like a battering ram, straight in the gut. He flew backwards through the air until he hit a wall. He staggered upright, one hand across his stomach the other using the wall for support. "You do not let one forget your power for long."

"No, I don't." was her simple answer.

"You should be going now," said Galbatorix.

"As should you," she snapped, as she turned to leave.

"Wait." Madrid paused, but did not turn around at his voice. "I want to review some things before you leave."

"I thought we had a deal." _"A deal with the devil_." But if he was the devil, what did that make her? She had helped him so many times_. _She had enjoyed the pain she gave others. She relished it and let it take her to a new level of intensity. And she never felt remorse for it._ "How could I trust him? But I do not."_ She thought with resolve. _"He would turn on me in a second. He has proven himself before. No I don't trust him, or anyone for that matter."_

"We do, I am simply making sure we have an understanding." he talked as if she were a child. She was sick of this conversation and wanted to be on her way.

"Fine then." Madrid turned to face him and recited, "My duty is to first ride to Bullridge to show the egg to everyone in the town. I will then leave the egg in trusted hands and ride to Gil'ead to help recapture the city. If all goes well I will await there until further news of the egg. If not… then I will return to Bullridge, take the egg and return here to Uru'baen. Satisfied?"

"Very well. Be on your way." Galbatorix said, still leaning against the wall for support.

Madrid walked into the stables. It smelled of fresh hay and horses. A young boy, probably no more than 7 or 8 years, jumped from his stool when he saw her coming. He was dressed in old clothes that were ripped and soiled. He wore nothing on his tiny feet, and they must have been freezing. His hair was matted and dirty, and she thought she saw some mud in his hair. The boy's face matched his attire; it too was covered in filth. He did a bow as best he could. He probably did not even know who she was. Madrid figured he was one of the lowest ranks and just bowed to everyone so he would not get a beating. "Please, Miss, don't tell the officer me was late bowin'. Me didn't know you was comin'. Me saddle you's horse." The young boy turned to go to the horse but then turned back to the hooded figure that was Madrid. "Err…Miss? Which horse be you's?"

So that confirmed it, he was beaten by this officer. By his accent, she could tell he was most likely bought off of certain slave trader she knew. "_When_ _I get back he will pay for selling children._" She thought angrily. "Young man, who is your 'officer'?" Madrid questioned.

"Oh please, please Miss let me get you's horse. Me promise Higen do the bestest job. Please don't tell the officer me was late bowin'." The little boy pleaded, begging for her not to tell. His sad eyes told her someone had asked before and gotten a beating for telling.

"Higen, is that your name?" The boy nodded. "Higen, he will not give you a beating. Just tell me his name. "

"Please, Miss, Hegin don't wanna beatin'. Me do a good job. But if you's tell him he's gonna give me's a beatin'."

"Not if I tell him not to."

"His name be Egramon… Sir Egramon." Higen said quietly, just in case someone might have heard him.

"Thank you, Higen; my horse is the black one called Ajax."

"You's horse be Ajax?" Higen's eyes grew wide at the mention of the horse's name. "No one go's near Ajax. He no like anyone. He no let anyone saddle him."

"Yes I know that's why I usually saddle him myself." Madrid said with a sigh. "Higen, go get Egramon while I saddle Ajax. Hmmm?"

"Oh ….ummm….ah…al…alright." the little boy stuttered. He then turned and ran out of the stable as fast as he could to go get his master.

Madrid silently walked back to Ajax stall. All the other horses looked back, ears perked up, they had probably seen many people go back to his stall, and be kicked right back out. She sent a tendril of thought ahead to calm him let him know it was her. She came to a halt in front of his stall. His tail faced the door. She leaned against the stable, both hands rested under her chin. "What am I supposed to do with you?" She made a clicking noise with her mouth and the horse turned to look. His ears immediately perked up and he turned around. He pressed his nose up against the bars. He loved when Madrid came. He knew it meant an adventure. Lately she hadn't been able to come and ride him; she figured it had been a week. She opened the door and he walked out. He wasn't tied; she never tied him. He would never run from her.

Ajax was the most magnificent horse she had ever seen. He was a beautiful, black Friesian. He stood about seventeen hands high. This made him one of the largest horses in the stable. She kept his mane and tail shorter than most Friesians, but it was still fairly long.

He was all black except for his right, front foot which was white. This marking was his only imperfection and that was why she had chosen him. Others thought this imperfection made him ugly and unworthy. So the people who breeded him thought he was no good so they mistreated him. That was until Madrid saved him when he was still a foal. And that was why he only trusted her. However, Madrid didn't want a perfect horse, and she thought it was useful, no one would want to steal an imperfect horse, if they were going to try to sell him later, and they would not even be able to get near Ajax. He would not allow that. Tornac come close, but didn't have the intelligence of Ajax. Ajax knew when to run, hide, or come to her rescue at the precise moment. That made him more beautiful than any other horse.

She retrieved his heavy saddle from the tack room. His bridle was already near the stall; it was so black it almost matched him. She slipped the bridle over his head, and pushed the bit into his mouth. She talked to him as she worked. Madrid was telling him why she wasn't there as often and where they were going and why. She retrieved the saddlebags and put them near the saddle. Madrid once again lifted the heavy saddle and put it on him. She was just finishing up with the buckle. She put her knee up by his stomach. He often liked to play a trick on her and make his stomach huge. Then when she got on him he should suck in his gut, and she would fall off. _"The trickster_." Madrid thought with a smile.

She put on the saddlebags, when she heard a noise behind her. She turned and saw Higen leading Sir Egramon toward her. Madrid also noticed Higen now had a bloody nose he was trying- but failing- to hide with a hand and his left eye was tuning a purplish color. "Higen! Come here." Madrid called.

The boy started to walk a little faster until his master backhanded him in the head with his knife hilt. The blow knocked the child to the ground. A trickle of blood formed a small puddle beneath the wound. Madrid was furious. "Thrysta!" she shouted and sent Egramon sailing through the air. He did not get back up, but he was still conscious. She heard him moan.

She calmly walked over to the boy and whispered "Waise heíl." over him. The boy sat up and looked around then he saw Egramon lying on the ground. Next he felt his nose and eye, and the back of his head.

"Hey, it no hurt no more. Hegin's eye no big." He looked again to Egramon then to Madrid, "Did you do that?"

Madrid looked to the big man and sighed, "Yes, Higen, I suppose I did." She looked at the little boy and saw the concern on his face, "Do not worry. He will be alright."

"Me no worry 'bout Sir Egramon now. Me worry 'bout when he get up." Said Higen.

Madrid gave the child a small smile. She walked over to Egramon and looked down at him as he rolled over in pain. "Waise heíl."

The man stood up. He was tall and dressed in a soldier's uniform. Madrid was taller than most women, but he stood a good couple inches over her. "How dare you use magic on me? And how DARE you heal than ungrateful, pathetic, and ignorant little scoundrel!" he shouted.

Madrid kept a calm look on her face as she backhanded him. The loud smack echoed through the stable and spooked a few horses. Ajax trotted up next to her. "And how dare you insult Galbatorix's right hand. This boy did nothing wrong. He was sent on my orders to get you so that I may tell you he is no longer your property. And your services are no longer necessary."

He looked at her and then the boy, "What gives you this right to order me around." He said with a sneer. "You are probably nothing more than an whore to Galbatorix. That's all women are and that's all they're ever meant to be."

"You stupid man, you don't even know how foolish you really are. I am on a mission for Galbatorix himself."

"Who are you?" The man questioned, his voice now filled with suspicion and fear. His was starting to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

"I'm disappointed. A better question would be 'what are you' but you will never know the answer to that either." Madrid said as she pushed her knife into his stomach. Egramon's eyes bulged; he shuddered as blood began to come out of his mouth. Madrid waited until his warm blood nearly covered her hand. She removed the knife and let him fall to the ground. He crumpled like a rag doll. She knew he wasn't going to get back up. Madrid bent over and wiped the blood off of her hand and knife with his cloak.

She turned back to Higen. He was still on the ground where she had left him. His eyes were wide with fear; his mouth hung open as he stared at her. She walked back up to him and he tried to skitter back away from her. So she stopped going toward him.

"Go up to the palace and look for the maid named Naccia. Tell her that her mistress sent you. If she doesn't believe you tell her that Gleadr is gold. It is a code that she will know. Tell her she is to take care of you, and to see if she can find you a job in the palace." The boy just nodded and stayed where he was. "It was good to meet you, Hegin, goodbye."

Ajax trotted over to her and she put her foot in the stirrup and swung her other leg over the big horse. She took one last look at the boy before she put her hood up and dug her heels into Ajax. The horse went into a full gallop out of the stables, and left Hegin all alone in the stables as she rode into the darkness and silence.


	2. A Talk, a chase, and a Woman?

**Author's note: Please if you do read this review it's nice to know if someone is acually reading or not. Thank you**.

Chapter 2

A Talk, A Chase, And a woman?

It was night. Madrid had been riding for several days. She was not going to stop tonight. It seemed as if she would never reach her desination of Bullridge. She knew how tired she was, so she figured Ajax was even more tired. She had been walking him most of the day so he was well rested by now.

She looked down at the pouch that went around her right shoulder to her left hip. What lay inside astonished her. The egg. Not just any egg, the last dragon egg known to man. The shell was a brilliant green. It seemed to capture the essence of life, or a forest, or both. It shined a beautiful emerald that gleamed in her eyes. Veins of a lighter green, like the veins of a leaf, spread throughout it. It was so pure. She could see her reflection in it. Madrid was amazed that no scratch could ever damage it; no dent could ever harm the miracle inside its hard casing. It was a completely perfect, smooth oval.

Suddenly, there was a tug on her mind. It seemed familiar, almost ancient. She cautiously let down the barrier in her mind. If it was not a friend she was ready to give them a headache that would last a lifetime, or seem that way. The voice grew louder as she let more of the barrier down. "_MADRID!"_ the voice shouted. It was so loud Madrid almost fell off Ajax.

"Shruikan_, it's you. You frightened me."_

"_Sorry." Said the old voice_

"_Why do you insist on contacting me every night?"_

"_Because I for one know how cruel Galbatorix can be."_

"_As if I don't and I'm not the one near him. And I can take care of myself, thank you. Oh and did a young boy come to the palace. His name is Higen. I sent him there. I killed his master."_

"_I would not know. I can search for him but not now."_

"_Thank you, Shruikan."_

"_Are you to Bullridge yet?"_

"_No, I thought I would be by now but it seems I must have made a mistake. I probably underestimated the distance."_

"_I do not think so; you are usually pretty accurate at distances."_

"_Even the best of us make mistakes." _Madrid added.

"_Picture in your mind where you are. I have probably been there before." _Madrid did as the dragon instructed and sent a mental image to him. _"I am not exactly sure where you are. Wait, what side of the river is you on?"_

After looking about she told him she was on the left side of the river.

"_I see what is wrong. You must have made a wrong turn. Madrid you are the wrong side of the riv…" _Shruikan's voice trailed off.

"_Shruikan? Shruikan!"_ She yelled in her mind. She was violently pulled out of their conversation, like being awakened from a dream. Madrid just became fully aware as an arrow whizzed by her. She let Ajax into a full gallop, not holding anything back. She lay as flat as she could against the big horse. She put a small spell around Ajax and herself so they wouldn't be hit, but she didn't make it so strong that their persuers would notice.

She looked under her arm and behind her to see who was chasing her. More arrows came and slid off her spell, but several came close. The strangest thing kept happening; every time she looked back she saw no one. No dust clouds or men behind trees and boulders.

Madrid looked up and thought she saw a bird circling above her. It abruptly started to swoop down. Madrid squinted to try and determine what it was. It was far too big to be a bird. It became larger and larger until it swept down in front of Ajax. Ajax didn't spook easily. He was a battle trained horse, but this scared him. He reared; Madrid's hood fell down, allowing her long hair to cascade down her shoulders and back.

Something hit her in the back of the head. A rock she thought; she had not used the spell to block rocks. She tumbled to the ground unconscious.

They had done it. They had got the mysterious rider. They had tracked him for days, but the ambush had been short. His thoughts trailed off to why they were chasing him. They had received word from an inside spy. What bravery that man had to tell them with Galbatorix watching over everyone in that place. _"So Galbatorix sent this man without an escort of soldiers, with the last dragon egg. Galbatorix must be getting impatient. This is perfect, Galbatorix will make rash disitions. In his haste he will be destroyed. " _

His thoughts then turned to Katrina, as they so often did. He looked down at the ring Eragon had given him. By the feeling of it he knew she was safe, but how long would that last? _"Once Galbatorix is dead she will be safe forever." _He thought about their child. He wondered if it was safe. He wondered if it would be a boy, or girl. He wondered if it would have his hair or Katrina's beautiful auburn locks. It didn't really matter to him, as long as it was safe along with its mother.

He cautiously walked up to the unconscious man. The courier laid face-down in the dirt. His horse had run off. He knelt beside the fallen rider and flipped him over. Shocked Roran called back to the gang of men, "Get Eragon. He needs to see this."

A young man stepped out of the small gang of maybe a dozen men on horseback. He was still a few yards away so Roran told him, "Eragon, I think we had chased the wrong person. This is a young woman!"

Eragon knelt alongside his cousin. He brushed the woman's hair from across her face. Her black hair reminded him of Arya. That was when he saw it. A pouch hidden under the green cloak. Just as he reached for it a black stallion came from behind her. It was the horse she had been riding. It charged ahead straight for them. It was still fully saddled and bridled. Roran and Eragon scrambled to get out of the way of this crazed horse.

Then it did the strangest thing. It placed itself between them and the woman. The whites of his fiery eyes showed. Its ears were flattened hard against his head; he snapped and let out a high pitched whiney. It was a warning to stay away from her. Eragon sent a thread of thought towards it to let it know they were friends. The horse became only more angered and stomped the ground. He was just waiting for someone to get close enough. Eragon realized he might have to kill the horse to get to the girl. He slowly drew his sword.

Right then Saphira landed in front of them, forcing the entire band of men back. She simply eyed the black horse. He let out another whinny; he was not even frightened by Saphira like most horses. Even their horses fought to run. The men were actually having a hard time controlling them. This horse stood its ground. He snorted at the giant, blue threat. Saphira went into the air above the horse. Eragon knew she was going to snatch him around the waist and carry him to a safe place.

Then he did another abnormal thing. He seemed to stand down. His ears were still flattened, but he walked over behind his fallen rider. He still had a fiery look in his eyes, giving them a warning should they do anything wrong; he would kill them. At that moment Eragon heard it. "A….Ajax……Ajax." He looked down at the woman. She was staring at him. Emerald eyes seemed to tear through him. "His ….name …..Is …..Ajax." And with those words when the last of her strength. She once again went unconscious.

"_I am going to look around. I will see if anyone is coming. Let me know, should you have any trouble."_ Saphira said before taking to the dark night sky. Eragon watched her until he couldn't see her over the trees.

Eragon walked quietly over to the comatose woman. Her head was still angled to where he was standing when she had told him the name of her horse. He could not forget those eyes. They seemed to know everything about him. They knew his darkest secrets. No he was just being foolish; they were normal eyes. They were just frightening, that's all. He watched the horse as he knelt by her. He reached for the pouch and the black stallion snorted. He took the pouch off of her shoulder and looked inside. He smiled, "Roran, we have it. She was the egg courier."

"She was?" Roran said in a surprised voice. "Really, Galbatorix chose a woman to carry his prized possession?"

"Arya was chosen to carry the egg. A woman is less of a threat, and can go more places undetected."

"I guess that does make sense." Said Roran, still skeptical, he told the men to get the horse.

Two men walked up to the big stallion. Ajax might have let his rider go with them but he wasn't about to give up without a fight. The horse reared and kicked one of the men in the chest. Ajax turned to the other, and pawed the ground. Eragon threw his hands up into the air. "Stop!" Eragon yelled; he knew what he had to do, "leave the horse be."

Eragon lifted her from the hard, rocky ground and tied her to his horse. He mounted the brown mare. The band headed west toward Du Weldenvarden. Ajax came alongside the mare and tried to bite her; it was a word of warning. Should this horse let anything happen to his rider she would get much worse. He was several inches taller than Eragon's mare. After that he stayed near his rider. Any horse that came near enough got kicked or bit, but he followed behind nonetheless.


	3. The Egg

Chapter 3

"The Egg"

When she awoke, Madrid didn't want to open her eyes. She didn't know what had made her come out of her sleep. She thought it might be a light. Although her eyes were closed a reddish- orange glow filled her mind. At first Madrid expected to be in a dungeon. She had been captured by Eragon. She had seen him. He was going to kill her horse if she didn't stop him. She saw his intention when she reached out with her mind. She had also felt her horse's mind; he was full of rage. Ajax would have had to been killed for them to get to her. It would not have taken long. When she looked into Eragon's eyes she saw something, she didn't know what; it seemed familiar, like a name on the tip of her tongue that she couldn't remember. In time she would have to figure it out.

The bed she was laying on was soft and small. This was not the bed of a dungeon. She had been in many prisons. Some had stone beds that came out from the walls. Some had small cots in which you had to be careful, because you never knew if the one you received was a faulty one with a broken frame in which you would topple to the ground once you laid on it. A few offered several scratchy wool blankets in this case one would be more comfortable to leave the blankets on the floor, but if it was winter they were appreciated by some. So no. she couldn't be in a dungeon, the bed here was too nice to be in a place of any filth.

The blanket that was laid over her was not scratchy but warm and comfortable. It was so perfectly placed so that not one wrinkled upset its smooth surface. It cascaded around her like a waterfall. It was placed so that it came up to her collarbone. Her arms had been set so they were in a relaxed position while she slept. She lay on her back her eyes still shut against the light that was sure to make her head spin if she opened them.

Her soft fingers felt the material of her riding dress. She rolled the fabric between her fingers as she thought about where she could possibly be. It was then she realized her dark green cloak was no longer around her slim figure. She wondered where that could be. Her scabbard was also gone, along with the knives it held.

She felt the ribbon tied around her left hand and wrist. It had been a gift to her. She had promised never to take it off. She was glad her captors didn't take the prized possession. Few noticed the silk, maroon ribbon. One reason she thought no one noticed was it could be of no aid to them and a second because it was almost always concealed either by a sleeve or her cloak. The third reason was because no one was close enough to her to care about a silly old string tied around her wrist. Those who did notice it just thought it a fashion or raised an eyebrow. Even fewer ever asked about it and if they did the only answer they would receive was a piercing glare from her until they went away_. "It was none of their business."_ She had told herself.

Her mind was foggy and she had to remember something else. Something she was wearing when she fell from her horse. Something wasn't right. Then as if she had run into a brick wall it came to her. "THE EGG!"

Madrid abruptly sat up. As she suspected her head began to spin out of control. Her eyes nearly when blind at the brightness streaming through the open window. Her muscles ached with pain they threatened to let her fall as they could not hold her. She intently shut her eyes as hard as she could. At first she thought she should lie down until the pain ceased, but Madrid knew the importance of the egg. She couldn't lay down now. She sought the calm within herself; the part of her only she knew fully. She let the magic wash over her like rain on a hot summer day. In her mind she spoke the words "_Wa__í__se heil_." She felt so much better. Still a little sore but that was from the magic she had just used and because she was already weak.

As her eyes finally adjusted to the light, she began to look about the room. It was small but not cramped. It had a walnut dresser off to her left, and a large window in the wall to her right. That was what the harsh light had been; it was the sun streaming in. It looked to be almost noon."_How could I have slept in this late?" _She questioned. Her hand went to the back of her head where the rock had hit her. She flinched when she touched it. It pained her to touch it but she had to see how much damage it did. Her fingers groped the wound. It had a large bump and a long scraggly scab over a long cut. She figured she would live and threw off the covers. She had to find the egg. She began searching frantically for any sign of it; she knew they would've probably taken it, but she had to be sure.

Madrid was so busy searching for the egg she didn't even notice the young man sitting in the corner of the room beside the dresser. A shadow was cast over his face therefore making it undistinguishable. He curiously watched Madrid for a moment. He watched her practically tear the other side of the room apart in her search. He noticed her black hair that was so dark. He watched the wavy locks as they were thrown all about. Their owner only cared about one thing right now: the egg. He also noticed a strange ribbon that was tied around her wrist. He wondered why she wore it, but dismissed the thought as he stood.

"It would seem as though you where looking for something." Madrid spun to face him. Now that she was aware of another presence she would take care of him and find the egg. "Could it possibly be about a foot long, green egg?" he teased.

"Hand it over, now." her eyes never left him. He raised he pouch up for her to see. The green sphere rested safely inside. On the inside she breathed a sigh of relief but never looked down at it. Her eyes stayed on the man. He would not live much longer and she wanted the last thing he ever felt were her piercing eyes upon him.

"Uhh I don't think that will be possible."

"Give me the egg." She said it slowly as she was trying to control her anger. He stepped out of the shadow. "Eragon." She breathed.

"You have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don't know yours."

"I intend to keep it that way. Now you will answer my questions; then I will be on my way along with the contents of my pouch." Madrid's eyes never left his dark brown ones.

"Questions. "He said with a laugh. "I have questions for you. But you first."

She raised an eyebrow at him but then started with questions," First why am I not in a dungeon? Secondly, why didn't you explore my mind yet? And thirdly…" her voice trailed off. She was going to ask why he hadn't drugged her but then figured he didn't know she could use magic. Although if it had been her she would have drugged him even if she wasn't sure he had magic.

"And thirdly?" Eragon repeated  
"Where am I?"

"The answer to your first question is because I don't care for dungeons and because I decided it was too far away from where I am staying so I moved you here. And I find it very rude to explore another's mind when they're unconscious and without their permission." Eragon turned to leave then turned back to her. "Oh and you're in Ceunon. There are the answers to your questions. Now it's time I had some answers."


	4. Arguing with Madness

Chapter 4  
"Arguing with Madness"

Murtagh paced outside a door his racing mind could not be put to rest. He arrived three days before but hadn't been summoned by Galbatorix until now. His left hand was clenched around a small, brown burlap bag. Something was inside it a roundish- oval shape filed the inside. "Maybe this will make up for the Burning Plains." He had width-standded the pain of failure he wasn't sure if he would live through another. He had to swear new oaths, ones he could never break. He was bound; bound as tighter than any chains could have.

"Murtagh, you may enter." Said a harsh voice from behind the door. Murtagh slowly entered the tall oak doors. Before him stood a long, wood table, with a single chair at the head. Galbatorix sat slouched in his throne. He rested his head on an elbow and stared woodenly ahead at Murtagh. "Close the door." Came the command.

"I thought you might want this." Murtagh said confidently. He tossed the sack onto the table. It rolled down the table and came to a halt a few feet from Galbatorix. Galbatorix sighed and came out of his comfortable position and reached for the sack. After untying the string, he turned the sack upside down. The contents spilled out onto the table. An angled face with long, grey hair looked up at him.

"Well, well my old Dragon Rider, I must say I never thought I would see you again. HA! And to think I thought your head would still be attached!" He looked up at Murtagh, "well done my boy." Murtagh cringed at the sound of those last two words. "I_ am not 'your boy'. I belong to myself and no one else. Nobody owns me."_

_ "_Oh Murtagh, wake up of course you belong to me. But this is a grand victory. With one less Dragon Rider opposing us I will be unstoppable as I have been for over a century. Eragon stands no chance if he stands alone." Murtagh cringed again Eragon was his brother and he was trying to destroy him. "The death of Orosmis and Glaedr are…appreciated. Do you bring nothing else, Murtagh? Particularly something of Glaedr's."

"Glaedr's eldunarí was gone, my King. Our only other option was to kill him."

"I figured as much. Still without the old Rider's council and without the dragon's council, Eragon will be lost." Galbatorix said as he looked down to his feet. Then he stood and took a few steps toward Murtagh. "But you still have much of your own training to complete, because you are still too weak. This is why Madrid was chosen to carry the egg and not you."

"She left?" Murtagh said weakly. He and Madrid were good friends. When he was younger he had often seen her singing throughout the palace halls. He had even talked to her on several occasions. He was the one who had discovered she could use magic. How she had hid it for so long he would never know. He had hoped to see her again upon his return. It had been a long time since he had seen her last. "She should not have gone, your Majesty. On my travels I have heard rumors of Eragon and his men traveling through the empire. What if she is captured? What if he sees her and takes the egg? She would be helpless against them."

Galbatorix slammed his fist down on the table and shouted, "DO NOT ORDER ME AROUND, BOY! You are under my command, NOT the other way around." Murtagh took a timid step back, but then held his ground. "And why do you suddenly care so much about who carries the egg? If it was anyone else would you care?"

"NO! I mean yes, but I don't care who carries it. I… I was concerned for the egg's safety not hers. Although she is a valuable asset to your cause. I think if I would have been given the responsibility there would be no cause for worry."

"I am not the one worried. Madrid is not without her strengths." Galbatorix said leaning against the table toward Murtagh. "She is not like every other human in Alegaёsia. She has magic, she can handle a bow and sword both better than you. Madrid can best anyone with her daggers. And she has that lunatic of a horse."

"A dragon can easily destroy a horse, we both know that."

"Yes well, it's too late to argue that point. By know she is probably already in Bullridge. And a woman riding a horse will be less suspicious then you riding a dragon."

"I think I should go to Bullridge and make sure the egg is there. "

"Why? Why are you concerned for the egg?" Galbatorix gave him a shaded look. Murtagh knew he was treading in dangerous water.

"Because I don't think Madrid can be trusted with such a task." Murtagh said with seriousness in his voice.

Galbatorix put on an amusing smile and huffed a single laugh. He stepped from behind the table and took his time walking down until he was a foot away from Murtagh. He then proceeded to circle Murtagh like a hawk about to descend on his prey. "And why is that? Please, boy, enlighten me." he whispered. The smile was gone from his face. Galbatorix went to the table and still facing Murtagh, he leaned against the table.

"She isn't like the others in your service. You said it yourself. She has sworn no oaths to you or anyone. Nor will she allow anyone to enter her mind." Murtagh was passionate with his words. He believed what he was saying.

"I have my own reasons for using Madrid. If it will put your mind at rest. You may go to Bullridge. But know if you do go, your training will be brutal, as we are pressed for time." Galbatorix said as he walked back to his seat. But then turned back. "If you are going to leave, I suggest doing it now." He spat as he sat down.

"Thank you, sir, I will leave immediately." Murtagh bowed and ran out the door. Once he was down the corridor he contacted Thorn_. "Did you hear?"_

_"Everything. Come we will fly swiftly together."_ Said Thorn as he waited outside. Murtagh climbed onto the saddle and without another word they were gone toward Bullridge and hopefully Madrid.


	5. Questions and Answers

Chapter 5

"Questions and Answers"

Madrid stood straight and proud as she waited. Eragon eyed her up and down, calculating in his mind what he knew about her and what she knew about him. Her piercing green eyes never left him. Since she was awake he sent a tendril of thought toward her. He wanted to see how well she protected her mind. When his mind should have sensed hers he felt a tingle, like if his foot fell asleep, but in his mind, it didn't hurt, but it puzzled him. So he searched harder, then he felt the pain. He tried to keep calm and he tried to keep his face expressionless but the longer he probed the worse it became. He pulled back with his mind and it stopped. She had many barriers on her mind. There was no way he was going to breech it without her permission. He blinked a few times to try to clear his head of the lingering pain. Her expression did not change. Her eyes, however, did. She knew what he had attempted, despite him trying not to let her see it. And she knew what it had cost him.

Then she finally broke the silence, "So Eragon Shadeslayer, what are your questions?"

Eragon broke out in a rapid tidal wave of questions, "Where were you going? What are you with the egg? How did you manage to even get the egg? Now that you're Awake I would like to search your mind – with your permission. Who sent you? Why –"

He was cut short when she raised her hand and simply said, "Silence. I understand you have many questions, but I received three answers and that is how many questions you may ask." Her head cocked ever so slightly to the right as if to hear him better.

"That seems fair."

"I didn't ask if it was fair. I gave you permission to ask three questions that was nonnegotiable."

Eragon thought a minute, _"I have to make the most of three questions. I don't want to waste one." _He could tell she was accustomed to getting answers, not giving them. He looked at her curiously then he began, "How did you get the egg?"

She once again stood to her full height. She was tall for a woman. She lifted her head and stated, "I found it and thought it might be of some value." She gestured with her hand toward him and added, "Much like you when you found Saphira's egg. Curious, isn't it?"

Eragon must have betrayed his thoughts, her eyes changed again into a state of knowing, almost a smile_. "How does she know about how I found your egg?"_ Eragon asked suspiciously.

Saphira had been listening to everything through Eragon. She had been most worried for him when he tried to enter her mind_. "I don't know, but does it matter? I think you have bigger things to worry about with this one. Do not forget the possibility she could be lying."_

"_I know and I don't care for it."_

"_I can be there in a moment if you need me."_

"_I don't think she will try anything right now. But be on guard and ready."_

Eragon turned his attention back to the woman. "Can I search your mind?"

Madrid looked down at the ground and back again. She had to choose her words wisely. She looked straight into his brown eyes, "Eragon, my mind is my own. It will remain that way." Eragon folded his arms over his chest and breathed a sigh of frustration. She would not yield to him and he couldn't force his way into her mind, yet he had to know if she could be trusted. _"I guess I will have to do that the old way."_

"_And what way is that?"_

"_I'll have to earn her trust and she will have to earn mine. _

"_Good luck with that, little one." _Saphira said with a laugh.

_She dances around my questions, just giving me enough of an answer without actually telling me."_

"_See if she will allow me to ask three questions. She will not dance around the questionings of a dragon."_

Eragon focus back onto the woman before him. "Saphira would like to ask you three questions as well."

Madrid thought about it a moment then nodded. "Saphira may ask me as many questions as she likes on one condition." She paused. Eragon leaned closer to hear her. "She may only share three answers with you."

"Fair enough." Saphira and Eragon said at the same time. Although the woman only heard it through Eragon.

"_Bring her here so I may see her."_

"Would you like to see a dragon?" Eragon said with a smile of pride.

She walked elegantly past him and stopped right before she turned the door knob and said, "I hope you don't think this is the first time I've ever encountered a dragon out of its egg." And opened the door for him to lead the way.

They walked down the staircase and entered a large room where Saphira lay. Eragon entered first and held out his hand toward Saphira, "Meet my dragon, Saphira." The large window behind the great lizard let the rays of sun dance of off the brilliant blue scales of Saphira's body. The woman took a few steps toward Saphira until she was between the Rider and his dragon. At the sight of Madrid she arched her neck high as if to look down upon them. Then she lowered her snake-like neck until it stopped only a few feet away and observed her with one great big blue eye. The woman didn't back down. The place seemed to stand still no one moved, no one exchanged a single thought, and no one betrayed a single emotion. The only sound was Saphira's breathing. After several minutes Madrid did what Eragon thought he would never see. The woman bowed her head to Saphira. Eragon figured that was the most of a bow this woman had ever given. "Well met, Saphira Bjartskular."

"_Well met, two-legs." _

"You have agreed to my terms."

"Yes." Saphira said with a hiss. She showed her teeth "_but negotiations with a dragon don't always end well, for your kind."_

"That is quite understood. I'll take my chances." She turned to Eragon "Would you please excuse us."

Eragon nodded, "Of course_." I'll be in the library if you need me"_

"_Somehow I don't think that will be necessary."_

Several hours later Madrid entered the library to find Eragon hunched over a book. "We are through. It is up to Saphira which answers she will reveal to you. Then again she might not reveal any. But as I recall I said I would answer three questions. I so far have only answered two."

Eragon finished reading the line then looked up into her face, "What is your name?"

Madrid sighed but then reluctantly gave her name, "My name is Madrid. That is the only name you ever need to know. If you won't accept it just on my word alone, Islandazí will know me."

Eragon smiled half hearted sad smile. His eyes where distant. he was looking at his book, but didn't see it. Then he looked up at her. "Fine then tomorrow we will visit the Queen." He stood and began leading her back up the stairs. "You can sleep in the room you woke up in since you have for the past two days."

She grabbed his arm and stopped him. "Two days! How long have I been asleep?"

"Five days." He looked over at her. A hint of worry touched her face. It was the first emotion she had showed him since she awoke today. And then it was gone.

"Well, I guess that's not the longest I've ever been out." Madrid said. Eragon laughed. Hard. Madrid looked over at him and blinked a few times. She hadn't been joking. Eragon felt foolish for laughing, so he continued walking. Madrid followed behind and asked, "Where is my horse, Ajax?"

"He's safe. It took us quite a while to get him in the stall without you. No one's been able to even get close enough to unsaddle him. He's been causing quite a problem with the stable hands. Not even the elves have been successful with calming him."

"Good boy" she whispered.

"What?"

"Nothing. Where will you sleep?"

"Just across the hall. The washroom is in there too. Oh and that's six questions that you've asked me now."

"And you have willingly answered without complaint." Eragon sighed as she walked into her room.

"Goodnight Madrid." He said. She just shut the door like she never heard him. He turned around and walked into his own room. He sat down on the bed. _"This should be interesting."_


	6. Scars and Companions

Chapter 6  
"Scars and Companions"

As Eragon stared at the ceiling for a few minutes after he awoke. In his mind he went over what had happened yesterday. Madrid was full of secrets. He still wished he could search her mind, just to be sure. He went over the answers she gave him. _"How could she know so much about us?" _He needed more information about her. "_How could Islandaz__í know her_?" He hadn't even thought about that. He looked over at his door. He thought he should probably go wake her. If they were going to have enough time to talk with Islandazí, they would have to leave very soon. He had other plans for the day that didn't include Madrid.

He slowly and reluctantly got out of bed. He immediately put on Brisingr. He never went anywhere without it now. He adjusted the familiar weight on his hip until it was comfortable. He rubbed the sleep away from his eyes and stretched his muscles. Saphira was halfway between sleep and being awake. His mind was still racing with questions without answers. He started to get a headache from it all. _"Slow your mind you're giving me a headache as well_!" Saphira said, agitated with all the questions. The bond between them had grown stronger. They could now feel everything the other felt. They were the same being in different bodies.

_"Sorry, Saphira, I just can't."_

_ "I know little one, but maybe I have the answers you seek. I asked almost as many questions as you yesterday." _

_ "But you can only give me three."_

_ "Then it will be three more than you have. Right now you need to get ready. I will share them with you later; after I decide which ones are the most important. Who knows we may get more answers from Islandazí, if she truly does know Madrid." _Saphira said kindly.

Eragon walked over to Madrid's room and knocked twice on her door. "Madrid, may I come in?" But there was no reply. He knocked several more times thinking she was still asleep. "Madrid, if you wish to see Islandazí, I suggest getting up now." Eragon began to worry. _"Maybe she's still sleeping."_ He thought.

_"Eragon, I highly doubt that."_ Saphira said. Eragon knew that Saphira was probably right. Concerned about what he might find, he turned the handle and slowly opened the door. She wasn't there. Frustrated with himself, he banged his fist on the wall. It made a loud crack. How could he have been so stupid to leave a prisoner alone without any magic barriers or guards?

Then he heard a voice, "Eragon? Eragon where are you?" Eragon turned to see Madrid standing in his doorway. "Are you alright?" Her forehead was wrinkled with concern. She was fully clothed, but her hair was still damp.

"Umm... everything's fine." he said a little confused. "Where were you?"

"You told me the washroom was in your room." She gestured to the room behind her. "You were still asleep so I took the liberty of using it." Then her eyes changed to the state of knowing. She once again knew what had happened and how he had been so stupid. She seemed to get control of herself and her face went back to showing no emotion. "You should really clean that washroom more."

Eragon was still confused with the whole morning already. She was a riddle wrapped in a mystery full of secrets.

"So what do you have planned for the day?" She asked.

"First we go to Islandazí. Then I'm going to the practice fields for a few hours. After that I need to try to talk to Gla... um… my friend. In private of course."

Madrid nodded as she considered. "Good I will accompany you."

"To see Islandazí. Right?"

"No, I will accompany you throughout your day. You wouldn't want to leave your prisoner, now would you?" Madrid said slyly. Eragon thought he was going to have a difficult time talking her out of this one. "We have time before we go to the Queen. I want to talk to your 'friend', Glaedr."

Eragon didn't know what to do. No one was supposed to know about the Eldunarí. So how did she, a woman who just happened to find a dragon egg, know about Glaedr? Eragon was beginning to see through her lie. Then again she might not know about the Eldunarí; she might just now about Glaedr. He pretended not to know what she was talking about. "I'm sorry to inform you Glaedr is dead, along with his rider Orosmis." Eragon felt a stab of pain for the dragon. He didn't know what he would do if he ever lost Saphira.

"I see. That's a pity." She looked down to the floor. Some of her hair slid from over her shoulder. Just before she looked down, Eragon saw the look of knowing in her eyes. He wondered if she knew about their deaths or if she knew about the Eldunarí. She looked back up and tossed the hair behind her shoulder. "Shall we be on our way then?"

Eragon remained silent but gave a nod as his answer.

They traveled down the stairs to Saphira's room without exchanging a word. Eragon was lost in his memories of his teachers. Madrid seemed to understand and didn't press him. Eragon's thoughts migrated to Saphira's mind. She too missed the old man and even though they had Glaedr's Eldunarí, she missed the gold dragon as well. She stood and Eragon saddled her. Madrid waited in the door way for him to finish. When he put the saddlebags on the dragon, she asked, "How far away is the Queen?"

"Only a few miles. Why?" He said curiously.

She raised an eyebrow. "Because if she is only a short distance away, why would you need a saddlebag?" She walked over and looked inside the bag closest to her. Eragon thought to stop her but then decided otherwise. Madrid looked inside. The green egg rested safely in the leather bag. She looked over at Eragon then returned to the door way.

_"Thankfully she didn't look in the other side." _Eragon said with relief.

"_Don't_ _worry little one, Glaedr's Eldunarí is safe with me."_ Saphira answered in a gentle tone.

"Well, could you show me to the stables? I would like to ride Ajax."

"Certainly, the stables are across the street." Eragon led Madrid through the door with Saphira in tow.

The procession walked out the door and into the open air. Madrid breathed deeply. She let the warmth of the sun go right through her and heat every single muscle in her body. Her green eyes took in as much information as they could. The town was laid out so it looked like orderly chaos. Clumps of houses grouped together while gardens were laid out in between. She saw a few elves out minding their own business. The houses were like none she had seen in her lifetime. The trees weren't cut, but they were the house. They looked like they had been formed by magic.

Eragon stopped in front of a tree that was larger than the rest. It smelled of fresh hay and horses. Eragon walked through the opening and so did Madrid. Saphira was barely able to get through the door, but the room was large enough for her to rise to her full height. There were stalls to either sides with hay and feed in between them. Most of the horses were gray-white. They were sturdy horses with curious eyes. There were a few brown mares. Madrid sent out a tendril of thought to find Ajax. The horse was in the fifth stall to the left.

He whinnied with joy as he saw his rider. She quickened her pace and went ahead of Eragon. When she reached out to touch him he nuzzled her shoulder. He still had all his tack on, just as Eragon said. She entered the stall and didn't close the door behind her. He stroked his nose and he tossed his head, as if to declare his owner had returned to him. He made another low whinny that vibrated through him.

Meanwhile the other horses were becoming skittish with Saphira among them. _ "Saphira, maybe you should wait outside." _Eragon told her.

_ "I think you're right. These cowardly beasts might hurt themselves."_

Eragon walked back to the stall he had seen Madrid enter. He had never seen this horse so calm. She was taking off his bridle and took the bit out of his mouth. Ajax's tail was facing the door and Madrid faced Eragon. She looked him in the eyes and seemed to guess what he was thinking. "I'm going to ride him bareback." She looked back down at what she was doing as she moved to the buckle on the saddle. She looked up at him again. "He's been in this tack for too long. He deserves to run free of restraints for a while." She was still trying to get the buckle undone. Her fingers kept slipping and Ajax was growing impatient. He stomped his hoof on the ground.

Eragon thought he should help her out and so he came into the stall. "Here let me –"he was about to bend down beside her.

"NO!" she yelled as she tried to push him away. It was too late. Ajax had seen Eragon as a threat. He had tried to hurt his mistress before and wasn't about to let him near her again. He let out a high-pitched whinny and kicked him in the right shin. Madrid heard the bone crack. Eragon went to the floor clutching his leg. He winced at the pain. Madrid tried to calm Ajax but he pranced once and came to a halt in front of her. The whites of his eyes showed. He was pawing the ground and ready to charge at Eragon.

Saphira had felt Eragon's pain and came tearing through the stables to get to him. The other horses vocalized their disapproval at the intrusion. While other horses paced nervously in their stalls. The great blue dragon paid no attention to them. She only felt the pain of Eragon. Madrid held her horse at bay while Saphira pulled her rider from the stall.

Madrid ran from the stall, closing the door behind her. Ajax pawed at the door furiously, trying to get out. The horse's rage was no match for the dragon. Saphira reared up her head. Madrid was sure she was going to shoot flames from her mouth and kill Ajax. Madrid would be heartbroken if he was killed, but she understood vengeance so she wasn't going to stop it. But rather than kill him she roared ferociously. The horse seemed to get her point and simply stood his ground.

Madrid went to Eragon's side. The bone had been fractured and was piercing the skin. "Eragon! Eragon, focus. You need to heal yourself." With his teeth clenched together he nodded.

He slowly reached his right hand over the ugly wound. "Waíse heill." He said through gritted teeth. The pain began to go away. He wasn't sure he had the strength to heal himself completely. He felt Saphira beside him lend her strength. Then he felt something different. He had some more help but he couldn't sense where it was coming from. He thought it might be Glaedr or possibly even the egg. Whatever it was he was glad it was there.

Madrid turned away from him to look at Ajax. Her dark wavy locks flew in every direction as she turned back to him. Green eyes darted between the victim and the one who caused it. Madrid heard the bone go back into place and watched as the skin folded over and became whole again.

Eragon panted heavily as the last of the magic receded. He felt drained so Saphira let him have some of her own strength. The first thing he heard was Madrid's voice yelling at him. "You shouldn't do that! You said it yourself that everyone was having trouble controlling him! What made you think you were an exception?"

"Glad to see you're alright too."

Madrid had nothing to say back, so she helped him to his feet. "I think it would be best if you both waited outside until we are ready to leave." She looked between Saphira and Eragon. She put her hands on her hips and stared him down. Eragon felt like when he was a child and had been doing something he shouldn't have. Whenever he was caught by Roran, he would be scolded, but Roran never told Garrow. He nodded and left with his hand on Saphira's leg.

Madrid came out riding Ajax. She used his mane as reins and was bareback. Eragon was atop of Saphira. _ "We will fly ahead of you. Stay on the road, or there will be consequences." _Saphira warned. The dragon crouched down then leaped into the sky. Madrid tsked to Ajax and he stared into an easy canter as she watched the blue reptile circle above her.

"_What do you think of her?"_ Eragon questioned.

"_I understand her." _

"_You do?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Well then, do you think we can trust her?"_

"_I don't know, Eragon. She is smart though – for a two legged creature. But she will keep her secrets at any cost."_

"_I know."_ He said he looked down at the black dot he knew to be Ajax. The palace was just ahead. _"Maybe we can find out more from Islandazí."_

"_Perhaps, little one, Perhaps."_ Saphira said as she went into a shallow dive toward the gardens outside the palace gates.

They landed on the path and waited for Madrid. She rode in and Eragon offered his hand to help her down. She ignored it and slid off the side of Ajax's back. The black stallion watched him carefully. She stroked Ajax's nose and turned to Eragon. "You won't have to worry about something like that ever happening again." Eragon folded his arms over his chest and looked at her as if he didn't believe her. "Give me your hand." She told him. With Saphira watching closely, he submitted. She pushed it towards Ajax's face. He held his head out of reach, but a stern glare from Madrid made him lower it. He trusted her. She let Eragon rub the horse's nose. Ajax seemed to forget pass meetings and nudged Eragon. Eragon smiled with one side of his mouth, giving his face a boyish-looking grin. "See he's not so bad." Madrid said. Then she turned and walked toward the large doors.

Eragon left the horse and followed Madrid. The doors were too small for Saphira, so she was content to wait outside among the palace gardens. As they approached the doors they swung inward, no doubt because of magic. Before they entered Eragon heard Madrid take a deep breath and sigh. "Is something wrong?"

She looked up at him as if she forgot he was there. "Umm… no, it's just this will be the first time an elf has seen my kind in a very long time."

"What do you mean?"

"Well you're the first human to have seen all this. But you are a Rider."

Eragon was still curious but put his thoughts aside as they walked further into the palace. They came to a second door that also swung in as they approached. The room seemed to stretch endlessly. The pillars to either side seemed to tower over them and somehow look down upon them. A beautiful carpet went from the doorway all the way to the throne at the far side of the room. Someone was sitting on the throne. Although she was far away Madrid could see her clearly. The woman was clothed in fine purple robes. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun while a few curly locks caressed her high cheek bones and angled chin. This was obviously Queen Islandazí, Ruler of the Elves. She stood and walked part of the way to the advancing party. She first looked to Eragon then to the woman beside him. "Do I know you?"

"No." came Madrid's answer. "You knew my mother, Jia."

The queen's eyes grew in disbelief. "Are you… Madrid?" Madrid nodded. The queen hugged Madrid to herself. "How is Jia?"

"She was taken by the darkness." Came the sad reply.

The queen looked down at the floor then looked Madrid in the eyes. Words weren't needed to describe her sorrow.

Islandazí looked to Eragon. "I believe you came here for a reason. What news do you bring me?"

Eragon began telling her the news of his travels. A figure the size of a child caught Madrid's attention. The figure stepped out from behind a shadow. As detail came into focus, Madrid saw a girl that had shaggy hair and a wicked grin. She also noticed the teeth were pointed. She remembered her from somewhere. Then it struck her, "Maud!" The girl's grin widened. Maud raced over to her; Madrid got on her knees and embraced the werecat. "Oh, Maud, I didn't think you were alive!"

For the first time since Eragon had met her, Madrid smiled.

**Author's note: Please review this chapter! Thank You **


	7. Old Friends and Secrets

Chapter 7

"Old Friends and Secrets"

Eragon watched in daze as Madrid and Maud embraced each other. "You know each other?" The obvious question had come from Eragon.

Their embrace lasted a moment longer while Islandazí smiled at them. Madrid finally released Maud and turned toward Eragon. "Yes, we knew each other a long time ago."

Eragon was still confused; her answers never seemed to explain much. He looked from one face to another as if they would give him more of an answer. "But… how?"

"It is quite a long story, but I will tell you after you are finished with your business with Queen Islandazí." Madrid stated. The smile was still on her face. This was one of the rare occasions Eragon saw her let emotion show. It was a kind, gentle smile. It was completely different from her rather controlling personality. Madrid stood and Maud returned to her cat form. She purred and rubbed up against Madrid's leg. For the first time Madrid's face didn't return to showing no emotion. Her smile did fade, but there was still a remnant of it left. She knew what she was here for. Her fate would lie with Islandazí's decision. She looked to the queen, "I believe Eragon has something important to say. Do you have a more private place we could discuss such matters?"

"Of course." She turned and led them through a door behind the throne. Eragon didn't even realize it was there until now. Maud followed behind Madrid, never getting far enough away that she couldn't still rub up against her. Madrid was glad for the company. It was a constant reminder she hadn't been alone all her life.

The queen led them through several corridors and staircases. They seemed to weave all about the tree palace until she took them through a small, plain little door. It was small inside. There were no windows so a few oil lamps hung on the wall. An old desk rested in the right corner. On it were a few pieces of parchment and an ink well with a long white quill sticking out of it. A chair – that didn't look quite safe enough to sit on – was tucked neatly under the desk. Although the room had an antique felling to it, it was relatively clean. There were no clumps of mud on the floor or cobwebs hidden in the corners.

Eragon took a sidelong glance at Madrid. The smile was gone and she was back to showing no feeling. Maud followed at Madrid's heels. Eragon could hear her purring even now. Queen Islandazí had returned to a more serious note. The joy of the recent reunion was gone now. Even Maud's mood seemed to change. She left Madrid and leaped onto the table. She gracefully turned and sat tall and proud behind the Queen.

"Eragon," she began, "what news do you bring me? And I want every detail, no matter how trivial it may seem to you." She held her head high. Arya was like her in many ways.

Eragon cleared his throat as he tried to recall what seemed to be a lifetime ago. He told her what Nasuada was planning and how he had found Madrid. Madrid added in details that escaped Eragon's memories. Islandazí looked puzzled as she listened intently. Although he was sure she was still listening, Maud licked herself clean. Eragon finally finished after a while. Queen Islandazí waited a few minutes before speaking to be sure there was nothing he left out.

Then she looked toward Madrid. Madrid was looking at the floor when she felt the Queen's glare upon her. She looked up and met it with a glare of her own. One was just as deadly as the other. Madrid had the same look on her face when she was questioned by Eragon. It was showing no feeling, but her eyes were defensive. He figured Islandazí was questioning her in each other's minds. Queen Islandazí knew one of Madrid's secrets, and it had something to do with how he found Madrid or possibly the egg.

Islandazí sighed and broke away from Madrid's defiant stare. Madrid looked over to him and back to Queen Islandazí. She was waiting to see if Islandazí would reveal her knowledge of Madrid or not. She looked once more into the green glare and then shifted her gaze to the Rider. "Well the important thing is you have the egg." Islandazí looked down and smoothed the skirt of her dress, although there were no wrinkles in it to begin with. She gracefully folded her hands in front of her and quickly looked up to Eragon. In a worried tone she asked, "You do have the egg, right?"

During the pause in the conversation Eragon had been talking to Saphira. When nobody answered he realized the question was directed at him. "Yes, umm…" was all he could manage as he forgot his words, "Saphira has it at the moment."

Queen Islandazí nodded, "good, let's have a look at it then, shall we?" Islandazí began to walk out the door. Maud, who was still cleaning herself, leaped off the table and followed.

"What are you going to do with the egg?" Madrid asked coyly.

The queen shot a quick glare at her and answered harshly, "_That_ is none of your concern." She turned around and without another word was gone. Maud rubbed up against Madrid's leg one last time and ran after the Queen.

Confused and frustrated Eragon pointed and accusing finger at Madrid. He demanded answers, "What does she mean?"

Madrid slowly turned her head toward Eragon. Her eyes first went to his hand pointed at her. Then her green eyes slowly made their way up to his. She held her head high, but didn't look down at him. She was looking straight at him. Her heated stare was now focused on his furious brown eyes. Her own eyes were full of fury at being interrogated once again. When he didn't back down she answered angrily, "Saphira must count this as one of her answers to you."

Madrid watched in a silent rage as Eragon spoke to Saphira. He was a bit calmer now that he was going to get answers, but Madrid was not. "She has agreed. Tell me what I want to know."

The anger in her flared. She took a few deep breaths but they did little to calm her. Her wrath flowed through her blood; it toyed with her mind. She knew what she could do to him right now. They were all alone she had a few hours to get away before anyone ever knew what she did. She envisioned it in her mind. She pictured his blood all over the room. Despite her anger she answered coolly and deliberately, "You asked me how I got the egg." Eragon nodded his remembering. "I didn't find it."

"I assumed as much. You stole it."

"Do not interrupt me again!" She once again thought of what she could do right at this very moment. "You will get no answers if it happens again!" Halfway through she stomped her foot on the ground to make her point. "It was given to me." Her hands were in fists. Her nails cut into her palms but she didn't care or even feel it. Her breath was heavy. "I serve Galbatorix. I am one of his most trusted." The anger fled from her voice, it felt good to say. It felt good to let him know he had been kind to a person he should have hated and killed the moment he saw her. It felt good to toy with someone so easily. This was how it always started, not ended.

No emotion showed as she walked away from the stunned Rider. She took one last look at him before she slammed the door and stormed away. Guilt and emotion swept her away as she walked down the corridor. Yes, it had felt good to toy with him, but she hated that it felt good. She hated that something at that level of betrayal was what it took to reach inside herself and know who she was. She loved the moment; hated what it was. Yes Eragon had been good to a person he should have hated. She had hurt a person who had only been good to her and treated her kindly. There was no justification for what she had just done. At least with others they deserved it, but Eragon did not. She deserved to die for what she had done.

The lamps flickered and danced as Eragon stood in shock. He couldn't believe it. He wished it had been something else, anything else. But it wasn't. It was what it was and he couldn't change it. He hated it that he couldn't make amends for it. Hurt, Eragon asked_, "Saphira, you knew about this?"_

_ "Yes"_

_ "Why didn't you tell me?"_

_ "It would count as one of the answers. I needed to choose only the most important ones."_

Angrily Eragon returned_, "And you didn't think this was important! What else are you keeping from me?"_

Saphira was hurt by his reply, but understood why. _"She knows about the Eldunar__í__, quite a lot about the Eldunar__í__. But I don't know how or why."_

"_Oh well that's just great."_ He said. He was still angry at himself for being so willing to trust her.

_"Eragon, don't you see? Maybe she can get through to Glaedr."_

Eragon knew she was right but disregarded it for now. _"What else should I know?"_

_ "It is true she serves Galbatorix without oaths to him, but she is not loyal to him."_

_ "Then who is she loyal to?"_

_ "I don't know, Eragon."_

_ "Anything else you want to tell me?"_

_ "I want to respect Madrid's wishes –" _

_ "She deserves no respect! She serves Galbatorix!"_

**Author's note: Please if you read this review. Any feedback is good. What's your favorite chapter so far?**


	8. The Fold

Chapter 8

"The Fold"

The crescent moon did little to lighten the dark land below them. The clouds covered most of the stars, but a few wouldn't surrender their light to the hazy heavens. _"I'm sorry Thorn. I really am. But we can't risk you being seen, especially now." _The little city appeared on the horizon. It would have taken maybe a few hours on horseback, but for a dragon they it would be only a few moments and they would be at Bullridge. _"You know I hate being separated from you as much as you hate being apart from me. You have to wait outside the city. You must wait in the forest while I look for Madrid."_ Murtagh found it difficult to argue with the red beast, but he did it for Thorn's safety. It was a necessary precaution. "_Galbatorix would kill us both if we cause a riot."_

_"Let him. He doesn't deserve our lives."_

_ "You know I'm trying to change my name. Same as you. It seems almost impossible. If only I could speak with someone who has accomplished it before. They could teach us and we would be free of our invisible chains."_ Murtagh contemplated hopefully.

_"Yes, then we would have two almost impossible tasks. First find someone who has done it, and then do it for ourselves. Murtagh, I want this as much as you, but it will take time."_ Thorn said in a kind and understanding tone. Murtagh thought of all the nights he had spent trying to think of ways to change his true name. Nothing had ever succeeded.

_"Will it be enough time though? What if in a few years Eragon and the Varden are already crushed by us? Then our efforts will be in vain. In a few years we could be dead. Then how will we atone for our murdering?"_ Murtagh said as he looked down to his hands.

_"Murtagh, don't ever say that! We do not murder; Galbatorix does. He has taken our lives from us. Is that not the same as murder? Just because we happen to be controlled by a murderer does not make us the same!" _Murtagh slowly turned over his left palm and looked at his gedwёy ignasia as he thought about Thorn's words. He studied it. It started in the center of his palm and wrapped around his wrist once. It was silver, and if you looked at it in the right lighting, it had tints of orange-red throughout it. Madrid had said everyone's gedwёy ingnasia was different for a reason. She still had more to teach him, but they hadn't had a chance to continue.

_ "If it is not us, why do I still feel guilt?"_ Murtagh's eyes shifted to the red scales beneath him. They shimmered in the moonlight as he drowned himself with remorse.

"_Because you do not have the wisdom of a dragon, like me."_ Murtagh smiled. Thorn could always make him feel better, even when talking about such serious matters. Thorn's voice turned dark. _"Galbatorix,"_ he spat the word as if it were poison, "_has control over us in almost every way. He even possessed you._" He snarled at the memory of Gil'ead. He had felt Murtagh's mind torn from his; then heard the voice of the man he hated most. "_Coming with you is one of the things I can control. I will go with you, even if you have to put an invisibility spell on me."_

Murtagh's eyes went wide with the insane idea Thorn was proposing, "_Do you realize how much strength it would require to keep you invisible for that amount of time! It would probably kill us both."_

Thorn did a mental shrug, "_use one of the Eldunar__í__."_

_"I can't. He blocked them from us. We are on our own for this mission."_

_ "Then my only advice to you is to ask Madrid; she knows more about magic. Maybe she can offer you a solution."_

"_Do you think she will still be in the fold?"_ questioned Murtagh.

"_My guess is as good as yours. See if you can sense her with your mind."_

_ "You know as well as I do you can't sense anyone when they're in the fold. Plus Madrid guards her mind so heavily I'd never be able to sense her presence. I've never even been inside her mind."_

_ "Odd, don't you think?"_ Thorn said in a teasing voice. Murtagh was confused by Thorn's question and asked in return.

_"What do you mean odd? She never let anyone into her mind."_

_"I mean it's odd that you have never been in the minds of the two closest people to you."_ Murtagh knew the other person was Eragon. After all they had been through he had never once been in his brother's mind. Murtagh slapped the red dragon hard on the side. It didn't hurt him, but Thorn replied_, "don't be upset with me. I was merely making an observation."_ Thorn sounded innocent, but Murtagh knew his red comrade was far from that.

_"Do you think Madrid would help us change our names? She is loyal to Galbatorix."_

_ "I don't think so Murtagh, she looks at him the same way I do. With hate in her eyes, and murderous thoughts in her heart._" Murtagh went over in his mind what Thorn was telling him.

_"It can't be. She does too much for him to be on a different side."_ Murtagh sincerely wanted what Thorn was saying to be true. If he let himself believe it and she was loyal to Galbatorix, he would be crushed. In more ways than one.

_"She isn't loyal to Galbatorix. He doesn't know her true name. I think the only reason he keeps her around is because she could be a formidable enemy. She knows too much of his plans. Why he trusts her with these things I have no idea."_ Thorn said with resolve.

_"If he doesn't know her true name and she hates him, why does she serve him so diligently?"_ Powerful wing strokes were the only sound as Thorn thought of an answer.

_"He obviously must hold something over her. It must be something that is worth handing her life over for."_ Trees rushed by as Thorn floated close to the woods.

His thoughts rolled over in his mind as he changed the subject_. "The fold is right up ahead. Just left of the oak."_ Murtagh sent a picture to Thorn of the tree, so he would know which one it was.

Once they were close enough Murtagh whispered the pass word, "Edor'sil Könungr." Right where to the left of the tree a small tear began. It looked as if a seam of the earth was being shredded from the inside out. It sent chills down Murtagh's spine as he watched the unnatural rift grow larger. He waited until it was big enough for Thorn to get through. "Letta." He breathed, and the tear stopped. _"Now."_ Murtagh leaned in close to his dragon. He shut his eyes tight as the world rushed past him. Just as soon as Thorn was through, Murtagh released the spell and let the walls slam silently shut.

_"I hate when we have to go through one of them."_ Thorn said with resolve. The great dragon walked a few steps then crouched to let his rider down.

_"Me too. But we have to."_ Murtagh said as he looked around the clearing. There was a tent off to his left and a place in the center for a cook fire. He knew that the tent held all the supplies needed for a long term stay. "_And since Eragon found the one at Helgrind, Galbatorix set passwords on all of them. I almost used the wrong one." _

_ "Yes, I noticed. It would be a tragedy for us to go through with the wrong one."_ Thorn said sarcastically.

Murtagh gave him a sad smile, "_I just hope Eragon never tries to go through one."_

_ "Surely your brother is smarter than that. Then again I don't know him like you do."_

_ "No you don't." _Murtagh walked over to the campfire. He squatted beside it and reached out with a hand. The ashes were dead cold. "_No one has been here in a while."_

_"Madrid must have gone right into the city."_ Thorn stated as he lay down beside the tent.

_"Yes, but why? There isn't a safe enough place to keep the egg."_

Thorn shrugged. "_We will search for her tomorrow. I'm sure she's fine."_

_ "I will search for her. You have to stay here."_

Thorn was tired and knew Murtagh was right. _"Fine, but you must stay in mental contact with me at all times, or I'll rip through that city to find you."_

_ "I have no doubt that you will."_ Said Murtagh as he patted his friend_. "I suppose if we weren't on different sides and we weren't trying to kill him, you and Eragon would get along fairly well enough."_

_ "I suppose, but he better not complain as much as you do. I may have to silence him, and fire is a fairly good silencer."_

_ "How come you never tried that with me then?"_

_ "Because you're my Rider." _Thorn said as Murtagh leaned back against him. Thorn waited until his Rider closed his eyes, _"I have to keep you around."_ Thorn quickly stood up and let Murtagh fall back unexpectedly. Murtagh heard the deep, throaty cackle of the red beast behind him. Murtagh rolled over in laughing at his dragon.


	9. Seeking Answers

Chapter 9

"Seeking Answers"

Before he knew it morning was upon them. He sensed Thorn in the back of his mind. He opened his eyes partway and saw the sun streaming in through the tent. He shut his eyes and rolled over onto his stomach. "Awake, Murtagh, the day has risen and so should you." Murtagh moaned an answer, but still refused to listen to the voice in his mind. He felt as if he was moving, but dismissed the though until he heard the rustling of leaves underneath his blankets. Murtagh realized he was being pulled out of his tent and into the direct sunlight. He opened his eyes. Red. Red was all he saw as the dragon loomed over him. "I said awake, Rider." He looked at him angrily but by his tone Murtagh could tell he was joking.

Murtagh playfully threw the covers upward toward Thorn's face. The dragon pulled his head out of the way and the blankets settled to the ground. "I'm up…Happy!" Murtagh said as he stood. He put his hands on his hips as he waited for a reply.

"No, I'm bound to a ruthless tyrant, but at least you're listening to me now." Thorn said as Murtagh shook his head and half smiled.

After a small breakfast Murtagh gathered some of the supplies he figured he would need and stuffed them into his pack. It was still cool outside. Winter had gone away but the air still had a sharp chill at times. He put on his long, simple black cloak. He arranged the hood until it was comfortable. Murtagh grabbed his bow, but didn't string it. He looked up at his big, red dragon. "See you soon, my friend."

Thorn looked at him expectantly, "Remember, at all times." He nudged his rider and Murtagh put his hand on the beast's snout.

"I know, at all times." He turned toward the entrance and said the password. As he walked through he pulled up his hood and brought it down so it would conceal his face. He walked at a brisk pace headed for Bullridge.

Since it was still early in the morning he was able to sneak in with the morning crowd. Merchants with their commodities worked around the stranger in black as they tried to get their goods to market. Beggars lined the streets asking for anything people were willing to give. Peddlers were selling just about everything from apples and pears to fabrics and clothing. He even overheard one peddler selling "magic" potions. They were most likely a scam, but he had already sold a few bottles.

Once inside the gates of the city, it felt empty, despite the crowd around him. He heard no dogs. There were no children in the streets playing. The town was devoid of life. And as he looked around almost every man and woman carried a sword or dagger. Murtagh saw a regiment of soldiers along the road watching over the crowd. "How could Galbatorix let things get this bad? How can he expect to gain more land if the people do not feel safe in his territory? He must be truly insane." Pondered Murtagh

"He is a tyrant, Murtagh; he doesn't not see anything he does not wish to see." Said thorn.

Murtagh found the only place of joy was the local tavern. If he was going to get answers they would most likely be from this place. He opened the door and walked into the room. The smell of alcohol was overwhelming. Rambunctious and noisy drunks hooted and hollered at one another as they told ridiculous stories of adventure and women. Rum splashed out of their mugs as they clanked them together in cheers. One oblivious man spilled out of his chair and onto the floor, landing at Murtagh's feet. The rest of the table laughed. The man looked up at him in surprise then also began laughing as Murtagh moved on.

Murtagh circled the room, but found the only man sober enough to talk to was the bartender. He walked up to the counter and sat at one of the open stools. He gestured with a finger at the men over his shoulder. "Are they always this bad?" He questioned.

"They get worse every day, and more of 'em to. By the end of the day I figure about two broken windows, five broken chairs, one broken table, three broken noses, and six broke men who will pay for it all. Can I get anything for you?"

"No I am not here for the drinks." The bartender looked down at him suspiciously.

"Then why would you be in a tavern?"

"I need answers." Murtagh said as he pushed two silver coins toward the man. "Will you help me get some?"

The bartender looked down at the coins then back up to Murtagh. He raised an eyebrow and said, "I am not a man easily bribed." Murtagh pushed three more gold coins onto the table. The man's eyes grew as large as the coins themselves. He smiled with one side of his mouth. "What do you need?"

"I need to know if you've seen a woman with black hair and green eyes. She's slender and tall."

The man once again raised his eyebrow. "I don't get many customers with that description. I don't believe anyone has been here other than the usuals. I'm sorry I can't help."

Murtagh sighed, "Trust me; if she was here you would remember her." Murtagh got up to leave but then the bartender cleared his throat to get Murtagh's attention.

"I think you left these here on accident." He held his hand out toward the coins. "I will not accept them for a question I couldn't answer."

Murtagh smiled under his hood, "Keep it for the broken windows." He turned and walked out the door.

It was a few hours past noon. He had tried to get information out of almost anyone he could find. They all had the same answer, "No." He was discouraged. He considered the possibility that she wasn't there. It was becoming very clear to him something had gone horribly wrong. He had no clue as to where to look next. There was an old beggar to the side of the street. He looked to be blind in one eye and a crutch leaned up against the wall beside him. He was sitting down and looking up to the tall, dark stranger. "Please, sir," he begged, "Anything you can spare will be appreciated." His long grey hair and beard were soiled. Under his hooked nose cracked lips parted to reveal yellow and black teeth. "Please, anything."

Murtagh held up a gold coin. "Have you seen a woman with black hair, green eyes, tall, skinny on a black stallion?"

"No." the man replied. Murtagh sighed as he looked to the ground. It seemed as if he would never find her. "But if you are looking for someone who can tell you, go to the south side of the town. There you will find an old shack like house. Most call her the potion woman. Don't let appearances fool you, that woman could find a songbird in a snowstorm. It is there you will find who you seek."

"Thank you." Murtagh said as he turned. He flipped the coin over his shoulder and the beggar caught it in midair.

"Thank you, kind sir."

**Author's note: One of my shorter chapters I know. It's also kind of a filler chapter. I promise the next two will be much better. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews so far. Keep it up!**


	10. The Potion Woman

Chapter 10

"The Potion Woman"

Murtagh looked up at the small, wooden building before him. The old man's directions had been almost perfect. Murtagh hadn't really known the layout of the city and therefore took a few wrong turns down the winding streets of the town. He had backtracked several times before finding the correct route. The building itself was a little distance away from the rest of the town. As if the city had moved and the little house had been left behind. The beggar had been right; it looked more like an abandoned shack then a house. He had no clue why someone would want to live here.

The old run-down shack had a small porch that covered the front side of the house. The three stairs leading up to it looked to be dry rot and leaned slightly to the right. As a soft wind ruffled his cloak, he heard the haunting music of the chimes hanging from the eaves. He looked up at them and saw they were made of broken glass, metal, a piece that looked like a broken sword, and bones. The music sent shivers down his spine as they seemed to call to him. No wonder no one lived around this house; it was as foreboding and sacred as a graveyard. He remembered the beggar's words "_don't let appearances fool you."_

As he approached the steps, he felt the chill of magic surrounding the place. Someone was watching him, he was sure of it. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. It felt like someone was trying to sum up if they could overcome him, or they were trying to judge him. He was being watched he decided not to dismiss it and closed his mind as tightly as he could. He sent a quick message to Thorn before he completely shut his mind. He knew Thorn would be upset with him, but he needed an explanation above all.

Murtagh cautiously walked up to the old, wooden door. He extended his hand to knock but before he could a harsh voice asked, "State who you are." The voice was hard, but definitely feminine with a bit of a rasp. Murtagh realized it was an order, not a question.

"Murtagh" he answered.

"lie." Came the simple reply.

Murtagh was confused and agitated. "Excuse me?" He had wanted it to sound powerful, but it can out angrier than he had wanted. "You asked who I am. I am Murtagh."

"lie." Came the rasp. Murtagh sighed in frustration. Then she explained, "'Murtagh' is your name. I asked who you are."

"Well what does it matter I am Murtagh Morzansson that is all you need to know."

"You certainly have the temper of a Forsworn." She stated.

Murtagh was about ready to come through the door. _"I am not my father."_

"And I consider it quite important to know who you are. I don't let strangers through my door. Only those who do not wish to harm me may enter." Her voice became harder on the last sentence. She too was becoming agitated with him.

Murtagh recognized her tone as a warning. If he planned to hurt her he doubted he would live to get past the door. He had felt the magic around the place. She could stop him from here. He sighed in submission. She was going to get her way if he didn't. And if he didn't give in now he wouldn't get his way either. "I am Murtagh Morzansson. I am a Shur'tugal. I ride the red dragon, Thorn. Eragon rider of Saphira is my brother. I serve Galbatorix, the Great King."

There was a moment of pause as the Potion woman considered his words. "You speak the truth, at least the truth as you see it. If you mean me no harm, you may enter. Your request will be considered." Murtagh was confused but dismissed. She was probable as insane as the house.

He reached for the door handle and pushed it inward. Murtagh stepped inside and found the interior as mysterious and overly chilling as the outside. It smelled of an odor neither good nor bad, but it was overwhelming. He couldn't quite discern it. It smelled like several different spices but much stronger and quainter.

He looked about the one-room house, but there wasn't much to look at. A small fireplace was up against the wall to his left. The bed was pushed up against the same wall as the door. A rack across the room held herbs and an odd assortment of unidentifiable things. Off to his right was a small table with two simple chairs. One of the chairs held a small woman. Her face was slightly wrinkled. Deep grey eyes looked up at him as he stood in the doorway. She wore a plain, brown dress and her brown hair was loosely pulled back. Her hair was streaked with grey from age. Locks of hair that had not been pulled back stood out in disarray. The only adornment on her was a blue turquoise necklace that wrapped twice around her wrinkled neck. So far the most impressive thing about her was her harsh voice.

"let me see your face, Shur'tugal." He realized he still had his hood up and pushed it down around his neck. She waited no longer and started, "why did you come here?"

"I need to find someone." He said with resolve. He wasn't leaving until he found her.

"I ascertained as much." She said as she nodded. "Who is it you seek and why do you seek them."

"her name is Madrid. She was supposed to arrive here a few days ago, but she is no longer here."

"_her_ name?" she questioned supisiously. She half-smiled as she looked at him coyly. "well, go on. Why do you seek her, this Madrid?"

Murtagh didn't like her tone. "I needto find her." He said through grittd teeth. Being one on Galbatorix's slaves, Murtagh was used to getting his way right away. This woman was asking too many questions for his taste. She should just do it. He needed to find Madrid. Answering questions from an old woman were not a part of that plan.

She saw his demeanor change and her voice turned dark, "that was not a very good answer, Murtagh." She cocked her head to one side, "perhaps the young rider would like to try again? Hmm…?"

"You ask too many questions."

"Once again you ignore my question. I only asked three, but I find three good questions gives a hundred good answers. Last chance, answer or get out."

"Why do you need to know?" His eyebrows came close together as he glared at the woman.

She acted as if he was a disobedient child. "I warned you. Answer the question or get out."

Murtagh was coming close to walking out the door. "You answer mine and ill answer yours."

A tight-lipped smile came to her face as she cocked her head the other way. "Hmmm… alright, Shur'tugal." She stood. She was smaller than he expected. She was very petite and only came up to his chest. But the expression on her face was intimidating enough. "I want to know why you want to find her, because I will not help a criminal catch another victim."

Murtagh's blood boiled. She was basically calling him a criminal. All his life he had been called a criminal, simply for the high crime of being born. His rage was almost uncontrollable. Only once in his life he had felt truly accepted and that was with Eragon. And he hadn't known, but even after he treated him with respect and not disgust. Then later he was accepted by the Varden at the Battle of Farthern Dar. He had lost all that when he attacked them and killed the dwarf king. He would never be accepted because of a father's choices that lead to downfall. Eragon was still trying to help him; maybe he hadn't lost all respect with them. Then again maybe he was a criminal.

She knew none of this. She didn't know him or what he had done. And she was calling him a criminal. The only thing she really knew about him was that he was the son of Morzan. "The _son will always pay for the father's choices."_ He thought. He took a deep breath. "Find her." He said with authority.

"I told you once. I will not help you find another victim."

Murtagh's right hand traveled down to the knife at his belt. He grasped it as pulled it free. The woman didn't move, but stared him down with cold, unblinking eyes. He brought the knife to the Potion woman's neck. She stiffened but didn't back down. He put his other hand on her shoulder to make sure she wouldn't go anywhere. She looked into his eyes and gave her tight-lipped smile once more. "I am not afraid of you –"the next words that came out of her mouth had haunted him for months. It made his blood go cold. Every fiber of his being wanted to leap out in every direction in anger and frustration. He struggled to keep his composer as he held the shaky knife to her exposed throat. She had said his true name.

Murtagh had never known what his name meant. That was the way Galbatorix wanted it and so it would remain that way until he was free. It was a constant reminder that Galbatorix was in control. Murtagh stepped back and put the knife into its proper place. "Now… tell me why you want to find this…" her hands flew out and gestured as she tried to remember the name. "Madrid, or GET OUT!"

Murtagh didn't know what to do if he didn't answer her, she would force him out of her home. He doubted that he would get back in. He finally relented and closed his eyes. He folded his arms over his chest and opened his eyes. "Madrid was on an important mission for Galbatorix. I came to make sure she was here. She obviously isn't. I have reason to believe she was captured by our enemy."

"You mean your enemy." She pointed out.

"Are not the Varden your enemy as well?" It was Murtagh's turn to question.

The old woman shrugged her shoulders and looked about, "I don't take sides. It doesn't really matter to me anyway." She eyes came back to his. She could see the look of confusion on Murtagh's face, so she explained it as if it was plain as daylight. "Life goes on. Business has never slowed down because of battles or wars. There's always someone wanting to find someone or looking for an easier way to do things. That's where I come in; I help people, for a price of course. So it doesn't matter to me who wins or loses."

"And what is the price for finding someone of importance?"

"It all depends. How much do you have and how badly do you want to find her?"

**Author's Note: Please remember to review! Thank You!**


	11. The Answer to an Unasked Question

Chapter 11

"The Answer to an Unasked Question"

Her eyes snapped open. She inhaled suddenly as his big fist slammed into her stomach. Vomit came rushing to her sore throat. She wanted to spit it out but couldn't. She realized it was because she was lying on her back. Vomit filled her mouth; she couldn't breathe. She tried to muster up the strength to roll over. She couldn't. She realized her arms were chained above her head. She tilted her head to the side and the vomit rushed out of her mouth. She felt the warm bile run down her upper arm. The last of it slowly dripped out of her mouth as she finally inhaled. She hadn't eaten in days so it was just the wet gooey, yellow acid. The taste still filled her mouth. She dry heaved a few more times before she was sure it was done.

She didn't know how long she had been here. She often lost track of time when she was forcefully brought here. It was the blow that had awakened her. She was lying on her back against the cold, hard stone table. The stone table was too short for her long frame. The edge of the table came out to only her mid-thigh, making deep cuts into her legs. She felt the weight of the chains around her ankles as they cut into her young skin. Her arms were stretched above her head; they were chained as well. The top of the table stopped at the base of her skull, so she had to either strain to keep her head up or let the sharp edge cut into the back of her neck. The table hurt her more than anything at the moment, but it was never made to be comfortable.

She was so exhausted; she had no strength left and let her head hung back as she tried to escape the pain. Her throat was so dry. It hurt to breath. Every time she inhaled it felt like someone was dragging their nails against the inside of her throat. She tried to swallow her spit, but there was none. It hurt when she tried to draw a deep breath, so she figured a few ribs were already broken. She tried to take shallower breaths, but that required more and so her throat would pay the price.

She had no idea how long she had been here. They would allow her to sleep at unsystematic points, for a few hours here and there. Sometimes it would be less than an hour and sometimes she felt as if they let her sleep the entire day. There were no windows, so she couldn't see the sun and count the days. They turned off the lamps at odd and random points to confuse the prisoners. It was all to confuse her, so one would feel like it had been a lifetime since they had seen the sun. She had probably had only a few hours of sleep this time, but she had lost track. People lost track of things down here, most went insane because of it.

She herself was barely old enough to be called a woman, but they didn't care. She had nothing to offer them to make them stop, but again, they didn't care. They only cared about one thing: Pain. They were good at what they did. They were trained to break a person, but she would not give in. She never would give in. They considered it a contest between themselves to break her there were several bets on different torturers to see who would have the victory. No matter how much pain they gave her, she would not surrender to any of them.

She struggled to keep her swollen and blackened eyes open. She heard his boots coming across the stone floor. She had memorized the sound so she could prepare herself for what was going to come. This torturer had kept her here longer than most, or at least it seemed that way. She had no real proof of that.

He was upside down. She wondered why, but then remembered her head was the one upside down. He halted and looked down at her. He was a bull of a man and no less of an animal. His leather vest revealed his burly chest. The sleeves were ripped off. His arms bulged against the brass rings around his upper arms. He had several piercings in his face, two at his left eyebrow and one through his left nostril. His shaved head only added to the fierce affect of his appearance. He looked down at her with disgust.

He reached down and unhooked the chain from the hook in the ground. He pulled the chain up over her and walked to the other end of the table. The blisters on her wrists popped as the iron chafed against them. She grimaced and inhaled sharply at the intense pain. She shut her eyes tight as she felt the blood run down her wrists. The gooey bile slid down her arm as well. The man pulled on the chain quickly and pulled her right shoulder out of place. She winced. It was a minor injury compared to some of her others. Her head lolled limply as she was pulled to an upright position by her arms.

He had one of his assistants hold her upright as he hooked the chains into the wall. After they were secure he nodded for the man to let her go. As soon as he did she fell limply backwards. The chains snapped tight and held her there. The sudden pain in her dislocated shoulder made her give a sharp scream. Her breathing quickened as she gained control of herself.

He walked over to the table with the tools of his profession. He gently glided his fingers over them as he turned to her. She swung her head over toward him and her long hair dangled over her sweaty face. Some pieces stuck to her. He made sure she was watching. The man grabbed the canteen. He gulped the contents. She watched as some spilled and dribbled down the side of his muscled neck. It was something the torturers did often to tempt their prisoners or "assignments" as they called them. It did tempt her to give in, but she wouldn't. They would beat her within an inch of her life, but they wouldn't let her die. She was good practice for them. That's what they had told her. She knew it was probably a lie, but it was a little hope she held onto. Some say there are worse things than death. For her nothing – at least at this point in her life – was more terrifying than death.

He set the canteen down without putting on the cap. Her eyes stayed on the canteen. He chose one of the shorter knives with a ragged edge. He inspected it closely as he walked over to her. He came up to her right side and held it in front of her face. She breathed in heavily even though it pained her, and stared blankly ahead. He held the knife with his right hand; with his other he grabbed her jaw and forced her to look at him. He turned her face side to side inspecting her like a piece of meat. His brown eyes were almost black.

He leaned in close until their faces were almost touching. "Pity," he started. His breath was hot on her flesh. His breath smelled of rotting meat. "Such young beauty…wasted." He spoke slowly and softly letting each word settle in. "You have probably never even felt the soft touch of a lover's caress." with the knife in hand he drew his index finger down the left side of her jaw. The knife followed precisely where his disgusting finger had touched. She winced and shut her eyes tight as the knife cut her skin. She felt the warm, fresh blood travel down her neck and onto her shirt. "It's nothing to waste your time with." He backhanded her. His rings cut the other side of her face. Her head went abruptly to the left. Her hair flew about and more stuck to the blood and sweat on her face.

He abruptly looked up to the door. He walked by and grabbed the towel at the table by his knives. He walked outside her cell. She wished so bad that she could wipe of the blood. She hated the feel of the fresh blood against her skin. She heard his voice. She tried hard and focused her eyes on the man he was with. She couldn't make out details. He wore a long purple and black robe. He massaged his left hand with his right. There was a discoloration on his finger so she assumed it was a ring of some sort. He wore a dark purple sword at his hip. She tried to focus on him, but with her swollen eyes she could barely make out details.

The torturer kept his voice down but she could still hear him easily. He was talking about her. About how long she had been in the dungeon and how far along he thought he was. At least she knew how long it had been: four days, although it had seemed like months. Then the strange man looked at her. With a hand he silenced the torturer. He smoothly walked into her cell. He must have been pretty important for her torturer to let him walk up to his assignment without a fight. He smiled at her. She hated him for it. From that moment on she knew she would hate him, without even knowing who he was she hated him more than anything. "Do you know who I am?" He asked. His voice was kind but she knew it had to be fake. She hated him. She did nothing but stare at him. "No? Well then, allow me to introduce myself. I am Galbatorix, King of Alagaёsia."

She knew why she hated him now. She gathered all the strength left in her. She knew she would pay, but she hated him. _"It would be worth it_," she promised herself. She would pay dearly for this, but she did the only thing she could do. She spit on him.

His smile only widened. "_What have I done?"_ She thought.

**Author's Note: So Who do you think this strange girl is? Let me know your ideas! Please review.**


	12. Memoirs of the Past

Chapter 12

"Memoirs of the Past"

"VANKA!"

Murtagh's eyes popped open. He abruptly sat up. He blinked at the bright light as he tried to figure out where he was. He was soaked with sweat. His hair was wet and matted and he felt a bead of sweat roll off his forehead and down the side of his face. He felt the artery in his neck pumping and his whole body seemed to have a pulse. He felt shaky and was breathing rapidly and hard. He looked over to see a woman knelling beside the bed and looking at him oddly.

After partially catching his breath, he looked around and remembered he was at the potion woman's house. It had taken the potion woman several days to try and find Madrid. Murtagh had come back every day to see if she had found her, then returned to Thorn at night. Yesterday, she had said she was very close to finding her. Murtagh wanted to leave the moment she located Madrid, so she had offered him her bed so he could spend the night.

They had talked quite a bit during her the search. He had learned her name was Anita. Anita said the only reason people called her the potion woman was because of the woman that lived there before her. She described her as a witch who would sell magic to the upper class. It was even rumored that she cast the knuckle bones of a dragon for a select few – though she denied it. Anita also had heard she kept a strange cat as a companion. People passing always heard her talking to it as if it was human. The cat frightened people because it would stare at them like it knew their secrets. Some said they wouldn't be surprised if the cat talked back. Either way the mere memory of them gave people the chills. Anita didn't mind though. She liked the quiet and security of the little home.

"Finally, thank the spirits." She said in a relieved tone.

Murtagh was still trying to catch his breath. "Fin…finally? What… do you…mean… finally?" He had a raging headache but pushed the pain aside as he tried to figure out what was happening.

"I mean I've been trying to wake you for nearly an hour. What put you in such a sleep?"

Murtagh's eyebrows scrunched together as he stuttered, "I… I don't know." He propped himself up on one elbow and wiped the sweat off with his other hand. "I had a…a dream. I guess."

"Well I had an awful time trying to wake you from this 'dream'." She talked to him like a disobedient child. "Come now, tell Anita about this dream."

Murtagh finally caught his breath so that he could talk. "Can't we talk about it later? I don't really feel like it now."

"Oh no you don't. By then you will have forgotten. Out with it now, while it's fresh in your mind."

"I guess I don't know how to describe it really." He tried to think what his dream was about. "It was more like a memory than a dream. Like it has happened before."

"I don't understand." Anita said flat out. He had noticed that was the best part of her personality. She spoke what was on her mind and didn't care what that was. "I mean the memory dream part. Describe it."

Murtagh thought of a way to make it easier to understand the concept. "umm… it's like when you see someone…but you've seen them before…but you can't think of where or who they are. Does that make sense?"

Anita nodded her head, but still had a look of questioning on her face. "Go on. Who was in this dream?"  
"There was a young girl. Maybe thirteen at the least, but not over fifteen—"

"And what did she look like?" Anita cut in.

"Well she had…" Murtagh tried to remember her description, but it seemed the harder he tried the more the memory slipped from his grasp. "Her hair was…I don't remember… _anything _about her."

"Dreams are slippery things." Anita pointed out. "Tell me what you do remember."

"She was in a dungeon. She was tortured, but I don't know why. And… Galbatorix was there. She hated him. I know there's more, but I can't seem to remember anything else."

Anita only nodded as she looked down at the floor. She raised an eyebrow a t him. "Have you had any more of these, 'memory dreams' before?"

Murtagh thought back as far as he could. "Umm… yes two that I remember. And it was the same girl. Don't ask me how I know I just do."

Anita broke away from his eyes and looked to the floor. She tenderly stroked her hands as she chose her next words. In a barely audible voice she muttered, "What are the other dreams?"

Murtagh thought back through them. Once again the harder he tried to think of them the harder it became to remember them at all. Just when it seemed they were within his grasp, they slipped just out of reach. "The very first one was when this girl was little. Her father died in a horrifying battle. She clung to her mother as she watched him being killed." Murtagh remembered the bloody battle in the mountains. He remembered seeing the blood splatter and cover the ground. He remembered the blood across the girl's face as she watched. He tried to picture the girl again, but it slipped out of reach. Anita rolled a bead from her necklace in her fingers as she listened. Her eyes stared ahead at something that wasn't there. It was only in her head as she saw haunting memories. Murtagh continued, "The second I remember. She was about five. She had to run…or hide. Yes, she had to hide. Something was going to get her. She had to run. She had been running for so long. I _vividly _remember the pain. Her mother couldn't hold it back for long—whatever it was. I don't know. But she needed water. Her hiding place was to the left of the path, but the water was straight ahead, but some distance away. It would get her if she slowed. She ran straight and then I woke up." Murtagh looked up at Anita. She still stared off into nothing. He looked down at the blankets. His shirt was still wet and sticky, but it was beginning to dry.

He was waiting for Anita to say something but she remained silent. His eyes darted from the blankets and Anita. A few minutes passed and she still idly rolled the same bead. Murtagh cleared his throat to get her attention. She rolled the bead. He cleared his throat again and forced a cough, but she still rolled the stupid bead. "Anita?" He said with a bit of force.

She jumped at his voice like she had forgotten he was even there. "Oh, umm… that is fascinating. Really. I'll make some tea for you and me." She quickly got up from the bed and put the kettle over the fire.

"What do you think of it?" Murtagh asked suspiciously. She knew something.

"Think of what?"

"The dreams what do you know of them?"

"I'm not sure entirely." She glanced over at him while mixing herbs in a bowl. "It could be they're just dreams. And they also could be something entirely different."

"What do you mean 'entirely different'?"

"I mean exactly what I say." She turned to face him and leaned up against the table. She shrugged, "I have heard of a certain spell that could possibly give you these dreams."

"Really?"

"But it's only that, a possibility."

"But possibilities can become reality. So out with it. Tell me everything you know about this spell."

"It's hard to explain." She pulled out a chair and sat in it. "When one person has a memory there is a certain spell you use to place it in someone else's head as a dream. This person will remember no one in this dream. They will only remember what the other wants them to." She looked at him and sighed. She could see the look of confusion on his face. "It's very rare and ancient form of magic. It is also very dangerous. I've only heard of it being used a few times and only as a last resource."

"What is it used for?" questioned Murtagh.

Anita shrugged again. "Different things in different situations. I know once a long time ago, two kingdoms were at war. One king hired a witch to befriend his enemy. She had a fortune telling for him and lied and told him all his future dreams would come true. She then went back to the other king and put this spell over him. His enemy had dreams of three girls being tortured and killed. Then he dreamed of a house being torn apart and destroyed. He went to the witch and told him of these dreams. She interpreted them for him. She once again lied and told him the three girls were his daughters and the house would be his, but the future was not set in stone and he could change it. He then went to the king and surrendered."

"Who was the witch?" Murtagh asked as he tried to wrap his head around the idea.

"Her name was Maritza. The king had her beheaded a few years later because he found out she was selling her services to another."

"It has also been used for teaching." Anita said as she stroked the palm of her hand.

"What could one learn from that?"

"Many things. Some things can't always be described." She tried to think of an example, "Like trying to describe color to a blind person; you just have to experience it for yourself. But like most magic there is a terrible price." She shook with fear and it sent chills down Murtagh's back the way she said it.

Murtagh cleared his throat. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer but asked anyway, "What is the price of this magic?"

She looked up at his and said in a quiet voice, "You have to first get the memory. And later experience it again."

Murtagh huffed a laugh, "That doesn't sound so bad."

She looked at him with a look of somewhat disgust, "So when the one king saw the three girls tortured and killed, he had to torture and kill three innocent girls to get that memory. Do you realize the pain of such things? One who would enjoy this must be truly evil."

Murtagh thought over what he had just seen in his dreams. _"Someone lived through that?"_ Just as the silence started to settle in the kettle began to whistle. Anita went over to the fire and took off the hot pot. She poured it into two cups. She set them on the table and sat back down. Murtagh stood and walked to the table. He sat down beside the witch. "So when one has this spell upon them, how hard is it to wake them?"

Anita looked down at her tea, "They will not wake until the other person is contented that they have seen enough."

"In all honesty, do you think someone put this spell on me?"

She looked into his eyes. "Yes."

"Is there any way to undo it?"

"If there is a way I don't know of it. It lasts until the person who put it on you is satisfied."

"How do I find out who it is?"

"You don't. That is the intention of the spell. For you to see some things you were meant to see without the chance of you knowing who wants you to see it. Does that make sense to you?"

"I suppose." Murtagh said. He was frightened that someone would use this on him, but was more worried for the person. Whoever it was had gone through so much. He couldn't believe it, yet there it was right before him. Anita sipped her tea. "Any news of Madrid?"

"Well, she took…precautions. That woman does not want to be found. I'm afraid the closest I can get to her is she is somewhere in the northern part of Du Weldenvarden. There are also barriers on that forest I cannot get through either. I'm sorry but that's the best I can do."

Murtagh sighed, "_At least I have a clue to where she is. How could she have gotten to Du Weldenvarden and what could she be doing there?"_ Murtagh then thought through something else that had been gnawing at him since the first day he was here. "How do you know my true name?"

She gave a sad smile, "The chimes." She whispered.

"What?"

She looked up at him. "The chimes have the bones of a dragon in them." She stroked the palm of her hand. "The magic of a dragon is stronger than any known magic. These special chimes open the person's mind to me, without them having the slightest clue. It was floating around in your mind and so I used it against you." Murtagh looked angry at her, but her voice turned dark. "Remember, Murtagh, you threatened me first."

"Do you know what it means?" Murtagh asked hopefully.

"No." Murtagh's hope came crashing down. "I only know it because you did, but I know no more. I will take the secret to the grave."

Murtagh stood. "Thank you, Anita. For everything." He started to walk out the door. He had what he came for; he could not spare a moment more.

"Oh and Murtagh," he turned toward her. "I have seen many evil things in my time; you are not one of them."

Murtagh walked out the door. He knew she was more than she claimed to be, but he would never know all of her secrets. Everyone had secrets and they deserved to keep them to themselves. That was something Madrid had taught him. He would never forget it. Murtagh walked the lonely streets of Bullridge as he thought about what he had learned from Anita.

**Author's Note: Whew! One of the longer chapters. So how many of you are a little confused? ;) do your part: Please Review! Thank YOU!**


	13. Lessons Learned

Chapter 13

"Lessons Learned"

Eragon's mind raced as he walked numbly down the stone stairs. It had been several days since Madrid had told him. He went over in his mind what he was going to say and ask. He was going to get answers. After Madrid had revealed her secret, Eragon took action immediately. He sent Queen Islandazí a psychological message, "_Don't_ _let Madrid leave the palace. Search the place if you have to."_ He had also contacted Saphira and told her to guard Ajax. Eragon had figured she wouldn't leave without the horse, but he knew it was a slim hope. She would give up anything if it meant her freedom. Eragon ran back to where they came from. Madrid had to be found.

He burst into the throne room, but the Queen had already taken care of it. Madrid had been seized by two of the Queen's guard. Eragon told them to take her to the dungeon. He was still surprised by her secret, but something told him he already knew it. Piercing green eyes never left him. Her eyes could see right through someone's soul. She was escorted from the room and taken to the dungeon. That was the last time he had seen the courier of Galbatorix. He had told Queen Islandazí that it would be wise to keep her under constant watch by a few guards. He also told her he would personally put up some magical barriers over Madrid. The queen insisted she would take care of it, so Eragon let her.

Eragon had thought Ajax would be a handful, but the horse greeted him with a nuzzle to the shoulder. He was surprised at first, but then remembered Madrid had told the horse not to hurt Eragon. Eragon wondered if the horse knew what had happened, if he would be this friendly to someone who had betrayed its rider. Eragon walked the beast back to the stables and carried out the rest of his day as he had planned it.

Eragon walked the dirt hallway as he made his way towards Madrid's cell. He walked through another wooden door. The guard acknowledged Eragon with a bow of his head. Eragon gave a quick nod then quickly proceeded through the room. The room was carved out of the ground. The roots of the tree served as bars for the cells. The roots jetted out of the ceiling and the dirt wall served as the back of the cell. A few smaller roots were twisted around the larger ones which were about as big around as Eragon's fist. There were no doors on the cells; you had to sing the roots open. In each cell there was a small window cut out of the dirt wall, to let a minimal amount of sunlight through. There were several cells, but only one held a prisoner.

There were two guards standing by her cell. Eragon dismissed them for the moment. They bowed respectfully and waited at the door Eragon had just entered. He watched them walk away then turned to the prisoner. She stood with her arms across her chest. She faced the window and did not even turn to see who it was. Her hair was matted and tangled, no doubt from sleeping on the hay covered ground for several nights. Strands of her black hair stuck out at odd angles. Her jade dress had dirt spots on it, and parts of the bottom were torn off. In the past, he hadn't been quite comfortable when her green eyes seemed to look right through him, but now he found he wanted to see the piercing emeralds again.

Without turning toward the young Rider, she said, "Really, Eragon, all this for me?" She looked down to her right so she could see Eragon in her peripheral vision, but didn't give him the chance to look into her eyes. She looked back out the window. She could tell he was confused, so Madrid continued. "Guards all day and night, magic around the entire place; I must admit I feel rather important to have a Dragon Rider see to it all this is done for just one person." She paused only a moment before adding, "You must have learned your lesson."

Eragon let her words set in. _"Eragon_," came Saphira's voice,_ "you are not the one at fault here. She is." _She finished with a snarl. _"Don't let her words affect you. She serves Galbatorix; she cannot be trusted. You know why you came here." _

"_I know. Thank you, Saphira."_

"_You're welcome, little one."_ She said with compassion.

Eragon turned his attention toward Madrid. She still stood proud with her back to him. He spoke up, "I'm here to give you a second chance."

Madrid gave a humorless laugh. He did not see what was so funny. This was nothing to laugh about; her life and many others depended on Madrid's cooperation. She sensed his annoyance with her. "There are no second chances, Eragon, only hesitations. It would serve you well to remember that."

Eragon stepped closer to the bars. "_Only hesitations."_ He thought. "If it was the other way around, and I served your enemy. Would you have killed me by now?" Eragon tested.

Madrid sadistically turned toward him. It was the first he saw her green eyes. She unfolded her arms and walked slowly toward the roots. She let the anticipation build with every step. She took hold of two of the bars. Madrid pulled herself close to them until her face was pressed up against them. Their faces were almost touching, but Eragon didn't back down. "No." she whispered, "I would do much worse."

She looked into his brown eyes and pushed herself away from the bars. She walked to the side of the cell and sat on the hay covered ground. She bent her knees and gently set her arms on top of them. She stared straight ahead at nothing. Eragon sighed and leaned against the bars. Eragon didn't mean to sound desperate, but he was desperate for answers. He had to know. "Madrid, I need answers. If I am ever going to trust you—"

Her head snapped toward him. Her eyes once again met his. "Don't ever trust me, Eragon." She turned away from him and looked at her hands. "That's when I'll betray you." She added in a whisper. She looked straight ahead at visions only she saw. Eragon had almost not heard the last remark. If he hadn't had elf hearing, he would have missed it for sure.

Eragon needed answers. He was going to get them one way or another. "Well maybe Maud can give me some descent answers. She seemed to know you quite well."

Madrid wore a humorless smile as she stared ahead. "Maud will tell you nothing." She stated; Eragon could hear the sincerity in her voice, but pressed the matter none the less.

"So you trust her?" He asked.

He had hoped to anger her a little, but Madrid remained calm. "I understand her. It is not the same thing. You see, werecats have a talent for keeping secrets."

"Oh really, what else do you know?"

She turned her head to look at him. She had the look of knowing in her eyes. "I know dragons have honor." Satisfied with the effect it had on Eragon, she looked straight ahead again.

"What's that supposed to mean!" His brow wrinkled as he stared at her.

She didn't look toward him, but answered his question. "I'm sure it's crossed your mind; how could Saphira keep a secret from you? Especially one of this magnitude." It hadn't crossed Eragon's mind as to why Saphira hadn't told him more, until now of course. Madrid continued, "You might think I had her swear in the Ancient Language that she would only give you three answers about me. I did not do this. I asked her, on her honor as a dragon, not to tell. Much more convenient; don't you think so?"

He was hurt that Saphira would choose her pride over telling him something as important as this. He couldn't understand why she wouldn't tell him. Saphira cut into his thoughts right then, _"Eragon, don't you see? She is trying to make you question my loyalty! She is trying to make us turn on each other. Don't fall for it. No, I didn't tell you, because I knew you would find out. We can talk about it later. Focus on the task at hand." _Eragon knew Saphira was right. "_I hope you will have more faith in me next time, little one." _Now Eragon felt guilty at doubting his closest friend because of something somebody he barely knew said.

He had to get answers from her. He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Madrid, give me the answers I seek!"

She smirked as she said, "Now we are getting somewhere. I find more people listen if you demand and not just ask."

Eragon hoped she would answer as he continued, "How do you know about the Eldunarí?"

"You learn many things under the service of Galbatorix. Eldunarí were just another lesson to learn."

Eragon looked away from her. "That is information only Riders should know. Why did he tell you?"

She said nothing as she stared straight ahead. Eragon took a deep breath. This wasn't going to be as easy as he had hoped. "How do you know Islandazí?"

The wisp of a smile touched her lips. "I do not know her." She said slyly, "my mother did."

Eragon was confused, "how did she know the Queen?"

Madrid decided to entertain Eragon by answering, "She lived in Ellsmera for most of her life. She was friends with the elf Queen. Maud was my mother's companion then." Madrid looked down at the hands, lost in her own memories.

Eragon was intrigued and apprehensive at the news. He gripped the bars with anticipation. "Was she an elf?" he heard himself say.

"No." came the quiet reply.

That just perplexed Eragon even more. He thought out loud as he tried to wrap his mind around it. "Then, she was a… human… living in an elf city." His brow wrinkled together as he looked at the prisoner.

Madrid didn't seem to hear him. The dungeon filled with silence. She sat up a little taller and closed her eyes for a few moments. She swallowed hard. "I did not say that." She breathed deeply as she gathered her strength. She turned toward him with resolve. She held her head high as those green eyes tore through him. Her voice was strong¸ "My mother was Greyfolk; as am I."

A million thoughts went through his mind at once. Shock, suspicion, fear, and doubt all rolled together as he tried to make sense of her words. He tried to think of all the knowledge he had of the Greyfolk, but found it was precious little. He knew they created the Ancient Language. He also knew they were _supposed_ to be an extinct race. Before he had gripped the bars in anticipation; now he gripped them in fear that his legs wouldn't support him. He didn't know how, but he managed to ask, "How is it even possible you're here?"

For the first time she didn't look away. She raised an eyebrow at him and said sarcastically, "Well, Eragon, you ordered me put in a dungeon. Apparently some people do listen to you, although I have no idea why." She waited for his response, but her eyes didn't leave him.

"Madrid, you know exactly what mean. How is it possible for you to be alive?" he said in a rather serious voice.

At first Eragon didn't think she was going to answer, but she managed to say the words, "We—like werecats – are excellent secret keepers."

**A/N: Doesn't it always seem like the more Eragon knows the more questions he has. Haha. So tell me what you think about Madrid's latest revelation!  
PLEASE REVIEW! **


	14. Explaining the Impossible

Chapter 14

"Explaining the Impossible"

Eragon's mind reeled. She was avoiding his questions once again. _"I'm coming around to the dungeons. She could be very dangerous._" He heard Saphira say. Eragon barely heard Saphira as he looked in shock at the woman before him. He didn't know what to think. He didn't know if he should feel good or bad at her revelation. It could affect either sides of the war in various ways. He guessed what he felt the most was genuine shock. He heard himself stutter the words, "I'm afraid my knowledge of the Greyfolk is… limited – to say the least." He added.

Madrid nodded her head. "Good. We don't like outsiders to know much. The only thing that would have pleased me more was if you said you've never heard of Greyfolk." She once again turned from him and idly looked at her hands that were still rested gently on her knees. Her tangled hair fell over her shoulder as she looked towards the floor.

Eragon's mind raced at the discovery of that the Greyfolk still existed. He could not believe all the doors this would open. They could help the Varden and, since they created the Ancient Language, the Greyfolk could teach them everything about magic and how to control it. This would be a great advantage to their side. Then Eragon looked at his surroundings. He was in a dungeon. He was here because she served his worst enemy. Galbatorix had already had these thoughts, and she had chosen to serve him. _ "What do I have to do to make her help us?"_

_ "I don't know. Ask her, if you think she would answer." _Said Saphira off-handedly.

Eragon breathed a sigh. He was here to get answers. He had to know more about, everything. His brow wrinkled together as he asked, "Are there others, like you?" After the words left Eragon's mouth, he felt foolish for asking. Mostly because of the look she gave him.

Madrid was looking at him quite oddly. "Of course there are other Greyfolk, but since we look similar to humans, we spread out among the towns and cities." She gave him a wisp of a smile as she added, "It's easy to hide a gem among blind men, when you tell them it's worth nothing."

Eragon was a little confused by her metaphor, but brushed it off as he began to ask more questions. "So... do you know them?"

Madrid didn't avert her eyes from him. She raised an eyebrow. "Well I don't know _all _of them personally. We can sense one another if we were to walk past one another, or are in close distance of another."

Eragon's hopes rose. Maybe one of those Greyfolk would help them. His voice rose with enthusiasm, "So you can contact them?" His longing eyes looked at her with eagerness. By her look he knew his hope was about to be crushed.

Madrid shook her head, "It isn't as if we have a meeting place or something, Eragon. That would draw too much attention. We must stay spread out and distant. We can only sense one another when in close contact."

Eragon thought about it. It did make sense. Madrid was a secretive person_. "No wonder she doesn't answer much. She has secrets worth dying for."_ Said Saphira.

_"Would you die for her secrets?"_

_ "If my race depended on secrecy, I would rather die a thousand deaths then reveal it." _Saphira said it with sincerity, and Eragon understood why. _ "This is a secret she keeps, not for herself, but for the sake of others of her kind. It is not so different then when you and I kept Glaedr and Orosmis a secret."_

Eragon guessed Saphira was right. He understood the importance of secrecy, but he needed to know about the Greyfolk for the safety of others as well. Madrid was among friends now; she could tell and trust them. Eragon then remembered why he was in the dungeon; she served Galbatorix. She wasn't among friends. "Madrid," she looked up. His voice was rather calm and gentle, "What else should I know about the Greyfolk?"

She didn't back down from his stare, "Eragon, I told you before. We are a secretive people. Just because you now know we exist, doesn't mean I'm going to hand over all my races secrets on a silver platter with your name on it." Her voice was also calm, but a little harsher, because she was getting impatient with him. "You will have to do better than a dungeon, to get me to talk."

Eragon sighed. Just as he thought he was going to get some solid answers, she pulled the floor out from beneath him. He felt as if he was falling into a dark abyss of questions; he wasn't sure if he would come out ever again. The answers were right in front of him in a locked chest. He would just have to find the key. He decided to go off of her other question to go deeper. "You said that Greyfolk lived within human cities, right?" Madrid didn't look at him but nodded. Her green eyes were distant. Eragon continued, "Is it possible for them to intermarry with humans?"

Madrid stared at her hands as she answered. "Yes of course. I myself have the slightest hint of elf blood within my veins." Eragon didn't control his emotions. A look of surprise took his face. His stared at her in astonishment. Then he tried to gain control of himself.

_"I guess it isn't that preposterous. Her mother did live in an elf city."_ Eragon thought to himself, although Saphira heard it also. She didn't reply but made a mental note of it.

Madrid tilted her head to the side as if to look at him, but not straight on. She continued, "But there is something you ought to know about Greyfolk, before you start your assumptions about us."

"Go on." Eragon encouraged as he nodded his head to show he was listening.

She looked as if she grimaced in frustration, but Eragon couldn't be quite sure. "I guess the simplest way to put it—Greyfolk blood conquers all other."

"I don't understand. That just doesn't make sense, if…" he was cut off by a sharp look from Madrid.

"I wasn't finished." She raised her voice to a state of warning. She sat up a little straighter and lifted her chin. She reminded him of a serpent about to strike. He broke away from her glare. She waited until he had his head bowed before she continued. "Don't interrupt me again, Eragon." He felt her eyes drift away from him, so he lifted his head. "I will give you an example. Say a person is half human and half Greyfolk, they would be, most likely, considered Greyfolk. Of course the human parent wouldn't know that, but the Greyfolk would." She paused as she thought about how to explain it better. "You see, it doesn't matter if they are a full-blood Greyfolk, or if they have a single drop of Greyfolk blood in their veins. They are Greyfolk. It's the magic that's important." She saw out of the corner of her eye, Eragon was frowning in confusion. He didn't understand any of it. It was so hard to explain to someone who never experienced it. "If a person has the magic of the Greyfolk, all their other heritage is forgotten. It simply doesn't matter. They may know they have other heritage, but it is of little concern if they are Greyfolk. Many, unfortunately, don't even know they have the magic." She thought about what she said then added, "Now that doesn't mean if a human has magic, they are Greyfolk. Some humans can have magic, like you. But believe me, you are no Greyfolk." She saw Eragon's face change as he considered the likelihood then learned it was, in fact, not even a possibility. She thought he seemed relieved at learning he was just a human Rider. "Greyfolk magic is different. More powerful, and it takes us very little energy to do something that would probably drain you." Eragon looked pleasantly surprised at that news. He was probably planning to use her somehow for his own ends. "_Just like Galbatorix. They're all the same. And I plan to be no part of it."_ She smiled inwardly.

"You see, Eragon, the more Greyfolk blood you have the sooner you discover and can use the magic. Also, the sooner you discover it the more powerful it becomes; it is also much easier to manipulate."

Eragon looked down at the floor as he thought about it. He looked down to her as a question popped into his head. He lifted an eyebrow and asked, "How long have you been able to use magic?"

She looked down at her hands. As shifted her arms as she wrapped them around her knees and pulled them closer. She stared ahead blankly. She sighed heavily, and then gave him a sidelong glance as she answered, "I have been able to use magic since birth."

**A/N: sorry for the longer-than–usual-wait for this chapter. I've been busy this past week. Anyway sorry if this is a bit confusing. I tried to explain it the best I could. Hope you enjoyed it.  
Please be Kind. Review.**


	15. Threats

Chapter 15

"Threats"

Madrid stared blankly ahead as Eragon fathomed what magic she controlled. _"If she is so powerful, why hasn't she tried to escape?"_ Eragon asked Saphira.

_"I can only assume she needs something. We still have the egg; that could possibly be what's keeping her here. Or she could be here for her own interests."_ Saphira replied. She was right; Madrid, if she was telling the truth, wouldn't leave without the egg.

Madrid didn't plan on revealing any more about herself. None the less, she knew Eragon's endless questioning would continue. She felt like a traitor to her people. She had revealed one of the most well kept secrets in all of history, yet Eragon was never satisfied. "_It is necessary, for the time being."_ She told herself, _"He needed to know a little, although he could never understand."_ She told herself she would answer no more of his questions this time. She would not indulge him with the answers he sought.

Eragon held both the bars in his hands. He tried to wrap his mind around what she was saying, but there was still so much unanswered. He looked around as he contemplated the information he did have. It made sense to a certain degree, but there was still several pieces missing in this puzzle. Eragon's gaze drifted back to the woman in the cell. He managed to mutter the word, "Why?" It was so soft he was afraid she didn't hear him.

XXXXXXXXXX

Madrid heard him loud and clear. She knew what he was asking also. Why hadn't she used her power? Why was she still here? Why didn't she kill him? Why didn't he kill her? The questions pricked and pulled at her mind. She wasn't even sure if she knew the answers to all of them. But she had made a decision. She would tell him nothing.

Madrid knew Eragon would persist, for a time. "_This is no different." _She told herself. This was a test of wills, as it always was. One would fail. It would not be her. She closed eyes, and with them her whole self. She pulled herself back to the familiar place. She let relief wash over her as she held her safe haven close. She completely closed her mind. If anyone tried to breach it, they would find a seamless core. She kept herself there; it didn't take her strength. She knew she would not hear Eragon anymore. She wouldn't hear anyone until she left. There was nothing where Madrid stayed. Nothing to hurt her, nothing to taunt her, and nothing to comfort her. She simply existed here, but nothing else did. Her breathing slowed as it usually did. She was so intoxicated by herself, she wasn't even sure if she was breathing. She didn't care. The sensation calmed her; the silence haunted her, and the peace kept her here.

She heard a strange noise in the distance. It was so far away she could barely understand it. By the time it reached her ears it was nothing more than a soft murmur. She didn't care what it was; Madrid was safe here.

XXXXXXXXXX

"BARZûL, MADRID!" Eragon shouted again. Eragon's face contorted with frustration. He saw the elf guards give him a glare because of his language. He was a little embarrassed at himself. Saphira wasn't surprised by it; she knew that he was angry and frustrated, but she would have preferred him not to voice it.

Madrid was shutting him out again. He wasn't even sure if she heard him. She just sat there, with her eyes closed, along with everything else. He could barely hear her soft breath, but he could tell she was still conscious, because she held her head high with pride. Her relaxed arms had returned to resting on her knees.

"Fine, I'll do it your way and demand answers." Eragon decided with determination. He motioned to one of the guards to come close. He asked him to open the bars. The elf sang a beautiful haunting melody; Madrid showed no change. Eragon wondered if she even heard the elf. As the elf sang, the roots began to dance with life. A few small rocks and clumps of dirt were loosened from the ceiling and came tumbling down on Eragon's head. He brushed the dirt out of his hair and moved aside, to prevent being hit again. A few pieces rolled toward Madrid and bumped her; she didn't even flinch at the sudden touch.

The space between the roots finally became large enough for a person to fit through. Eragon walked through the door. His anger had cooled, but it was not forgotten. He thanked the guard as he shut the bars once again. Eragon turned toward Madrid. The source of his current troubles. The secret of a race forgotten. The possible savior of the Varden.

He was going to ask the same questions and hope for answers. Then he decided to take another approach. He looked her up and down. The satin, maroon ribbon around her wrist caught his eye.

XXXXXXXXXX

She heard a soft thump in the distance, but it didn't concern her. She was here; safe, in the world she had created. She was here, not there. She felt something grab her left hand. She dismissed it. The thing then worked its way down to her wrist. It tugged on the ribbon. This interested her, but she disregarded it. The thing pulled harder at the knot.

Her eyes popped open. She was there; the most dangerous place, reality. The thing had been a hand, Eragon's hand. Her eyes watched as he pulled the knot. She immediately started to fight him. She tried to pull her hand back. She pulled with her other hand, but he would not release her. She grunted as she punched him in the ribs and stomach. By his grimace she knew she was hurting him, but he wouldn't let go. She reached with one arm and grabbed him around the neck. She would use magic, if she had to. But he reached for his knife with his other hand and had it against her throat. Neither moved or even dared to breathe.

A wisp of a smile came to her lips. "Do you think your blade is faster than a whisper?" She asked coolly.

"Try it and we'll find out." He answered. She was surprisingly calm for having a dagger at her throat; then again he was surprisingly calm for having someone about to kill him. Her eyes went to the ribbon wrapped gracefully around her wrist. She felt the warmth of his hand. When she flexed her fingers, Eragon could feel the satin move slightly_. "Another secret."_ He sighed internally. "_When will they end?"_

Her eyes flicked up to meet his, for an instant. Then her eyes flicked up to meet his for an instant. Then they returned to the maroon satin. She looked to her hand and then what she could see of the knife. She raised her eyebrows in question. Eragon slightly nodded once. She removed her hand and he removed the knife slowly. She breathed heavily.

His hand moved quickly. She wasn't fast enough to stop him. The small knife slipped under the material around her wrist. "Answer me." Was his simple request.

"_Simple demand, not so simple to grant." _ She thought. "What do you want to know?" She wasn't done fighting yet. _"This is one battle in a war."_ She was enraged that she had let him gain control.

Eragon had found a weakness, something he didn't think she had. He took the opportunity. Eragon took the ribbon wrapped hand and held it in front of her face. Her green eyes flicked to the ribbon for a moment, but then focused her view to his brown eyes. Through gritted teeth he demanded, "Why do you wear this?" A look of worry crossed her face. He was getting too close. Madrid had to seize control of herself first if she was going to win this battle. She fluidly stood in a single motion. Her eyes never left his. She took a deep breath. She put on her face that showed nothing. She internally smiled at him. He could never control his emotions. He seemed disappointed every time she put on her blank face. It interested her, but now was not the time to investigate. He looked to be in control, but she knew it was not so. Eragon thought he was pushing her closer to the edge; he was actually making her retreat farther inside herself. She never broke before; she wouldn't now.

She looked quickly at the moron satin. Memories haunted her. Pain raced to her mind as she looked at its deep color. It reminded her of blood. She had promised never to take it off. She didn't regret it. She regretted what it had cost her. She remembered when she got it. She stayed up the entire night stroking it. She would never forget that moment when she knew someone cared. She would never forget the burden she now carried wherever she went.

She looked back into Eragon's eyes. "_Eyes,"_ she suddenly thought, "_the gateway to the soul." _She sent a tendril of thought toward him. In his rage he had forgotten to close his mind. _"I might win this battle after all." _

XXXXXXXXXX

Pain. Searing, blinding pain exploded from his mind. It felt as if someone was plunging a dull knife into his mind over and over again. Lighting had struck him. White hot pain blinded him. He was on fire, yet he was ice. He couldn't breathe. It lasted a lifetime, and then some. Time didn't exist, just the pain.

Then it abruptly stopped.

He panted wildly as air filled his lungs. His vision was blurry as the pain receded from him. He was on the floor, crumpled into a tight ball. His hands gripped his hair tightly. A fresh sheen of sweat covered his brow. He didn't remember falling. He looked up to see Madrid standing tall and proud. Her head was turned toward the window.

Chest heaving, he looked under his arm to see what had stopped her. One giant blue eye blocked the light from the window. Saphira had arrived, just when he needed her the most. When he was finally able, Eragon stood. He was still breathing heavily. Madrid didn't even look at him. Her eyes were focused on Saphira. By his mind, he could tell Saphira was furious. Her nostrils flared as smoke rolled from them. "_Why didn't you kill her?"_ he asked Saphira.

"_Because you didn't want me to. And if you needed healed; I was prepared to make her use her own strength." _ Saphira let him have some of her strength. His breathing slowed until it was normal. All the pain was gone.

"Why did you stop?" he asked Madrid, "You could have killed me."

Her wary eyes stayed on Saphira. "Because a dragon's magic can't be controlled. She would have killed me. Then what would have been the point of killing you?" Her question was rhetorical.

He looked to his dragon and thanked her. She once again saved his life. He didn't know what he would do without her. "Well, as long as Saphira is here, maybe I can get some descent answer out of you."

"I doubt it, Shur'tugal." Eragon was slightly surprised at her sudden formality. This was the first time she had addressed him by his title. She gave him a sidelong glance and folded her arms defiantly across her chest.

"If your answers are satisfactory, I will see if I can get you out of here."

"HA! Is that what you're reduced to? Bribes? And on a possibility none the less. I refuse your offer." She stated sternly. She looked to see if Saphira had moved to a more threatening position. When Madrid saw she hadn't, she marched to the bars. She whispered under her breath. The roots began to move. They were faster than they had been last time, in fact, a lot faster. More debris fell. She walked elegantly out. The guards reacted quickly; they sent spells flying across the room. She whispered again. With the loud noise of the other spells, Eragon couldn't hear her. A hazy shield formed around her. The spells passed through her without harming her. They flew until they hit the opposite wall. With a crash they put a hole in the wall. Simultaneously, she sent her own spells flying toward them. The spells hit them and threw them back against the wall. They crumpled to the ground, unconscious. He had never seen someone command two spells at once.

Before Eragon could think, he realized she was looking at him. He saw a deadly glare pass through her eyes. He saw her lips moving again. Everything seemed like it was in slow motion. He tried to reach the roots, but he wasn't fast enough. She bent them back to their original position. He heard an earsplitting roar from Saphira. He was trapped.

Time went back to normal. He finally reached the bars. Madrid stood just out of reach. Saphira was about to flame the place. "NO!" Eragon waved his hands to get her attention. Saphira's mouth was opened wide. She snapped her jaws shut and he saw her eye again.

"WHY!" She yelled angrily in his mind.

"_Because, you will set this entire room on fire. You won't be able to control the flame; you will kill me as well!" _

Saphira backed off, but her anger flowed into his mind. They stared at each other to see if she would try it anyway. He heard a voice from behind. "Go ahead, Saphira. If you try to kill me you will also kill your Rider." She said confidently, "or he could possibly make a shield, but that means I have time to make one also. But are you really willing to take that chance? Chose wisely, dragon, or suffer the consequences."

**A/N: So now we see what Madrid can really do. I was trying something a little different with the different points of view, what did you guys think? And you can probably expect the uploads to be less frequent with school coming up. I plan on posting once a week. PLEASE REVIEW!**


	16. The Wait

Chapter 16

"The Wait"

Nasuada paced hurriedly around her command tent. Arya was supposed to meet her here when the sun was at its highest point in the sky. She had also requested that Blödgarm and his elves meet her as well. She felt the ever-watching eyes of Elva. After breaking her caretaker's heart, Elva had decided to stay and help Nasuada and protect her against the Black Hand. The little girl looked to be almost fifteen now, although she was really only about three or four years old. Her voice was still as chilling as ever, although it seemed less frightening now that she looked a bit older. She still ate as much as ever; Elva would eat about every hour, and her portions were great. The blessed child's wisdom was growing too; she would sometimes advise Nasuada or just talk with her. Nasuada couldn't hide anything from the girl, so she had stopped trying a long time ago. Elva hid behind one of the folds in the tent as she always did. Nasuada thought the girl might find comfort in the small, secure place and would never ask her to move.

The flap of the tent was pulled aside by one of the Nighthawks. She couldn't see which one it was, but by the large meaty, grey hand, she knew it was one of the Urgals. She immediately stopped pacing and waited to see who it was. Blödgarm strode fluidly through the opening. She couldn't hear his soft footsteps. His blue fur was clean and neat and it shined as the light hit it. His musty smell wafted toward her. Although she could smell it, it had no affect on her like it did on many women. He walked to her until he was about an arm's length away; he bowed at his waist and stayed there a minute before rising to his full height. He was several inches taller than her, but he didn't look down at her. He stepped to the side without a word and waited for his comrades.

Gradually over the next half-hour the elves came in, bowed and waited by Blödgarm. The open flap allowed several insects into the tent. Nasuada swatted them away if they came to close. The elves simply let them be. Arya had still not come. It wasn't like her to be late. Maybe she forgot, but that wasn't like her either. Nasuada tried not to resort to her habit of pacing, so she sat in her chair as she waited.

No one said a word. The elves looked to one another as they observed her carefully. She thought they might be talking in their minds to each other. Nasuada wished she knew what they were saying. Nasuada stood from her chair and walked to the opening. She pulled back the flap just enough for her head to show. She tried to see the sun, but because of the small roof above the doorway, she couldn't. She turned to her closest guard and told him to see how high the sun was. "About an hour after noon." Gurgled the Kull. She nodded to be sure he knew that she heard him, and then stepped back inside the tent.

Blödgarm's yellow eyes never left her. It gave her chills. She looked to the other elves. They all stood away from her and close together. As if they were better than her; she knew the elves didn't mean it that way, but she felt it nonetheless. "Have any of you seen Arya this morning?" she asked.

They looked to one another. She could tell they were speaking to one another. Their bewildered faces gave her the answer, but they still shook their heads. Nasuada sighed. The elves never said much, out loud at least. They answered only when they had to. They let Blödgarm or Arya do most of the talking for them. She knew they spoke to people who could use magic, Nasuada had overheard them talking with Eragon and Trianna. Maybe they thought she wouldn't understand them. A small part of Nasuada wanted to learn to use magic, but she had enough impossible tasks. Magic was one she didn't need to worry about.

She was about to take a step forward then stopped; she was about to pace again. She instead turned her mind to other matters. She thought about the battles she had fought in. The Varden had won the two most recent battles. The Varden were camped right outside the city gates of Feinster. She knew the elves were somewhere around Gil'ead. They had won but at a great cost. She had just recently been informed of the great dragon and his Rider. She was just about to use them elsewhere when she was told they had been destroyed. Once again Galbatorix took something from her. First her home, then her father, now her greatest hope. They had won, but she had lost much. She looked up at the elves. She was on the other side of the room. She had been pacing again. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't shake the habit. She thought she should just give in and for now she would.

Nasuada looked to the door. A hand reached back to pull away the opening, but they were to slow. Arya threw back the flap as she marched into the room. She looked to be in a fit, but then she regained herself and put on an expressionless face. Without thinking, Nasuada asked in a whisper, "Where have you been?"

Arya shot her a piercing glare, "I had other matters to attend to." She said it softly so only Nasuada could hear, but it sounded like a warning to back off. Nasuada met her glare, but turned to the other elves.

"Now that you are all here, I would like to say, first-handedly, that you have all been a great asset to the Varden and our cause. You have been diligent in all that you do. I would especially like to thank you for your help toward Eragon. You are very talented and I am honored to have your help." She paused to let her words settle in. She looked each elf in the eyes to be sure they knew she was sincere. She began to start again, "Now that Eragon is gone for the time being, I ask that you would consider using your talents in other areas. I had hoped that you would help tend to and heal the wounded. And perhaps you wouldn't mind teaching some of the Du Vrangr Gata more about magic. I also want you to know this is a request, not an order. You have done much for the Varden. I will not be offended at all if you refuse."

She looked to each face in turn. They all wore the same calm face with just the wisp of a smile, except for Arya. Her face was calm, but there was not even the slightest hint of a smile hidden beneath it. Blödgarm spoke for them, "We will do as you ask, Nasuada. We have been rather bored since Eragon's departure and will delight in the task you have given us." His words flowed smoothly together.

Nasuada breathed a sigh of relief. The wounded were getting infected and needed to be treated immediately. Angela was losing more sleep every night, but still managed to report it to Nasuada every morning. Angela was a good person, just quirky. "Thank you all very much. I assume you know where the wounded are kept?"

They all offered her a small smile as they nodded. They bowed and turned toward the door. One of the Nighthawks held back the flap as the small procession headed toward their new task. Blödgarm was the last to leave. He bowed deeper than the rest. She couldn't hear his footsteps as he walked through the opening. Arya, Nasuada and the ever-present Elva were the only ones left in the tent.

She turned toward Arya, "Have you spoken with your mother yet?"

Arya cringed; her mother still loved her and always would. She knew her mother would welcome her back with open arms, but Arya had taken an oath. An oath to protect Saphira, in doing so she vowed to abandon her family and everything else. The Queen was her mother by blood, nothing more.

"No," she answered respectfully. "I assumed you would also want to speak with Queen Islandazí."

Nasuada nodded as her eyes slowly drifted to the floor. "You assumed correctly." She pulled her head back up to look into Arya's green eyes. She extended her hand toward a large, silver basin in the far corner of the tent. "Shall we?" she questioned.

Arya gave a single nod as her answer. She followed stealthily behind the female commander. Nasuada walked around it to the other side. Arya stayed on the side closest to her, so she was opposite Nasuada. The basin was about an arms length in diameter and came up to about her stomach. She looked into the clear water. She whispered the spell over the bowl. She watched as the water turned pitch black.

**A/N: Filler chapter! I needed a break from the dungeon, how about you guys? Although I'm not finished with the dungeon scene, we needed a little switch up I had too many chapters in a row of Madrid and Eragon. Well, anyway we finally get to see Arya and Nasuada and some other people of the Varden. Okay, you guys know what to do! Click the review button and tell me what you think! ;)**


	17. Innocence

Chapter 17  
"Innocence"

She glared at the black satin ribbon around her right ankle. She hated the soft shackle. She was dressed in a red corset with black vintage designs throughout it. The collar dove into a sharp V; the shoulder straps were too long and constantly slipped off of her slender shoulders. The skirt of the dress was black; it would have reached the floor if her mistress hadn't "fixed" it for her. The vial woman had pinned one side of it so high her entire right leg was exposed. She didn't wear anything on her feet and the only adornment she wore was the black ribbon with the silver heart charm attached to it. The charm marked who her mistress was. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun on top of her head. A few of the fly-away pieces itched as they touched her face. She constantly tucked them back behind her ears, but they would fall out whenever she turned her head.

She was hiding in the palace gardens. She sat quietly on one of the stone benches that were hidden by overgrown plants. Few people knew about the bench back here. Most were simply too busy to notice the small seat. She sat alone in the empty gardens. The only sounds she heard were that of birds and her steady breathing.

Many things crossed her mind; she reminisced about the past. She thought about her future; where would she go from here? Where was there to go? Would anyone even want her? Questions haunted her. Then her thoughts turned to the present. What she was. She was a palace singer. "_Singer indeed."_ She thought sarcastically to herself. She was called a singer, but she knew what she was. She was a form of entertainment. She did anything anyone wanted. Anything. She was sold for her body. Mostly she had been beaten to unconsciousness. Whether they were just angry and needed someone to take it out upon or they just enjoyed it. It made her sick to think of what had been done to her. None of this was her choice. This was unthinkable; the alternative was unbearable.

That was what the ribbon was for, to mark her as one unworthy of compassion and unfeeling to the pain. She was no one and didn't have a soul to them. She was nothing, so they treated her that way. The charm marked who she belonged to. At the end of the day she would return to the door with the silver heart upon it. There was also another reason for the charm. If she was beaten to unconsciousness the man would call in one of the guards, who would then carry her back, until he found the door with the same symbol on it. The mistress would take them from there. The ribbon marked she could be bought; the charm marked who she belonged to.

She was allowed to go anywhere throughout the main part of the palace. As long as she followed her mistresses' rules. Some of the rules were the same between all of the mistresses, but some had specific rules that didn't apply to all. One of the major rules was that –if you weren't bought for the night- you had to sing. This is why they were called the palace singers. They could sing whatever they like as long as it didn't insult the King. Another rule was at least one person must be heard at all times no matter where the future customer was. She could hear a soft voice some distance away, but not close enough for her to be quiet. She was breaking the rules again. She tried to be even quieter. If she was found here, she would be sent back to the dungeons another time. They wouldn't be so gentle with her this time. She was beaten many times when she worked, but it was nothing compared to the talented hands of the torturers.

She looked up as she heard the leaves of the overgrown bush rustle. She hadn't noticed anyone was coming until now. She sat as still as she possibly could. She thought she would never be this quiet again in her life. She stared in horror at the moving leaves.

She saw a young man pushing his way through the tangle of branches. His eyes were closed and he swatted and twisted against the branches that reached for him. Since his eyes were closed he didn't realize he was out of the bush. He continued to swat at the air until he realized he was free of the leafy horde.

His back was facing her. He was tall and built and his muscles were defined. He wore a black tunic and pants. He also wore black boots and an old sword hung from his hip. He stiffened when he felt her eyes on him. He slowly turned his head, which his body followed. His eyes finally met hers. She saw hurt and anger in his eyes, but the anger wasn't directed at her. There was also something else in his eyes, but she didn't know what it was. He looked to be around her age, maybe a few years older. The two strangers stared at each other. Neither knew what to say or do.

As she sat on the bench, he looked her up and down. His eyes lingered on the black satin. He knew what she was. Suddenly, she felt very naked under his glare, naked in more ways than one.

She wondered what he would do. She pondered if he would report her for not being visible and not singing. She wondered if, now that he found her, if he would take her for himself. Somehow, deep in her soul, she knew he would not do either. He was the first to break the silence, "What are you doing back here?" His eyes were full of suspicion and curiosity.

"I could ask you the same question." She answered sharply. She regretted saying it. She was always told to be more submissive, but that was not in her nature. She was sure his fist would be swinging out any moment to hit her.

She was surprised when it didn't come. They glared at one another. Neither one was willing to answer the question first. He looked to her ankle then back to her face. He huffed a laugh; she didn't think it was very funny. "Do you hide here often?" he asked her in a whisper.

"Who said I was hiding." She replied defensively.

He lifted his arms in a questioning shrug. "You're not?" She betrayed nothing. "Well, I hope you can see why one would assume such a thing. You're being quiet, defensive, and you're wondering if I'm a threat." She marveled at how well he read her. She had always thought she had a tight control over her emotions. But then he continued in a whisper, "and I'm trying to do the same exact thing."

She was still unsure, but took a risk and let her barriers down. A sad smile touched her lips. "And may I ask who you are hiding from?"

A hint of annoyance struck his face. "Her name is Mareasa. We're destined to be together, or so she thinks. I'm trying to put a stop to it. I don't think I'm doing too well; she's been following me for several days now."

He nodded towards her. She knew he wanted her to answer. She stuck out her right ankle towards him. "I suppose you can guess who I'm hiding from." He nodded his understanding. A cold silence consumed them. She looked to the spot on the bench next to her. "Since we are both hiding from love, would you like a seat?"

A small smile touched his face, "I would be honored, but I don't think it will be long. Mareasa has a talent for finding me." He pushed his sword back and sat down beside her. They sat in silence as they waited.

XXXXXXXXXX

About a half-an-hour later, they heard Mareasa call his name. They both stiffened at her voice. She came closer and closer as she searched. Soon enough she could see Mareasa through the hedge. Mareasa's yellow curls were thrown all about as she looked for her darling. Mareasa began pushing through the bushes that surrounded them. She thought quickly.

"You want her to stop following you without hurting her, right?" She whispered frantically.

He gave her a look of hope, "if you could do that, I'm not sure how I could ever repay you."

She gave him a single nod, "Then follow my lead."

She made sure Mareasa was almost through the bushes. Mareasa would definitely see. She turned to him, grabbed his jaw. She turned his face toward hers and closed her eyes. She pressed her soft lips to his. It was passionate, wild. She breathed in his moist, hot breath. And he did the same. She slid closer to him until her thigh was pressed against his. She tenderly put her other arm around him. She let a small moan escape her lips. She broke away slowly, letting the sweet taste of her lips linger on his. She opened her eyes just as he was opening his. He was dumbfounded. She could tell his head was spinning from the heat of the kiss.

Mareasa had definitely seen the entire thing. She looked at Mareasa just as if she was a passerby. Mareasa's look of shock turned to rage. She stormed over to him and slapped him as hard as she could across his face. Mareasa glared at her and spit at her feet. Mareasa stormed out of the garden and into the corridor.

She looked at him. He was still speechless. "Well," she began in a whisper, "I don't think you'll have to worry about her for a while."

"That was amazing." Was all he could manage. To him it was amazing; for her it was just another part of her job. She stood and walked through the bushes. She didn't care who saw her.

By the rustling of the leaves behind her, she could tell he was following her. She took the right corridor. She didn't care where she was going as long as it was away from him.

She walked for a few minutes and took random turns. He was persistent and still following her, but he was falling farther behind. She looked over her shoulder, but didn't see him. She wasn't watching where she was going and ran straight into a drunk solider.

He grabbed her forearm and yanked her around to looked at her. His drunken grin widened when he saw the material around her ankle. He pulled her close. His muscled arms bulged as he held her tighter. She tried to squirm out of his grasp, but was unable to. He held her tight and with both hands. His one hand grabbed her exposed thigh. She knew his meaty hand would leave a bruise. She swatted it away with her free hand, but he didn't release his grip. He breathed heavily into her face. His breathed smelled foul and like ale. "You've got too much spirit in you. No matter, I'll take care of that."

She knew it would make it worse for her, but she fought him anyway. He pressed his lips to hers. She tried to pull back, but he held her tight and close. Her teeth gritted against his yellow ones.

She heard someone clear their throat behind her. The man pulled away and looked. "Excuse me, Sir." She recognized his voice. She looked to see him walking calmly towards her and the drunk. He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I already paid for the night." He traced his middle finger over her shoulder to the base of her neck. She wanted to fight him to, but wasn't sure of his intentions.

The soldier looked at him with disgust. He wasn't buying it. "Oh yeah, well it looks like you'll have to share for tonight." His words slurred together. He went in for another kiss. He stopped the drunk with his right hand on the man's left shoulder. His other hand went to his sword. He pulled the blade free a few inches. His voice turned deadly. "I don't think you quite understand. I don't share."

The solider knew he was in no condition for a fight. The drunk pushed her away. "Ahh, she isn't worth it." He smacked her across the face. She took it without complaint. Her head whipped to the side, but it wasn't that bad. The soldier stumbled down the hallway. He looked back only once. The stranger in black put an arm around her waist and led her down the opposite direction.

She wondered if he would follow through on what he had told the drunk. When they were out of site, he turned and faced her. He reached out to where the man had hit her. She pulled her head back. It would sting even more if he touched it. He seemed to understand and lowered his hand. He still watched it as it turned red. "Why did you do that?" she asked.

"We're both hiding from love, remember?" He looked into her eyes, "Call it even?"

She nodded, "I should be going." She turned and started to walk away.

"Wait," He called, "what is your name?" She turned and looked into his eyes. She saw the hurt and anger once again. Then she saw something else, this time she recognized it for what it was. Innocence.

XXXXXXXXXX

Murtagh woke up in a rush. He sat up quickly. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. He was exhausted. Thorn looked worriedly at him. "_Another memory dream?"_ Murtagh could only nod. He only noted that it was still dark out. He collapsed back into a sleep. This time, a dreamless sleep.

**A/N: hey everyone! 60 reviews hippy! Keep it up. Review and tell me what you like or if you have a question with this chapter.**


	18. Warrior at Heart

Chapter 18

"Warrior at Heart"

Islandazí was in her bedchamber. It was covered with ivy and rather small. Well, smaller than you would expect a queen's room to be. She had just come in for a few moments to rest her feet and get away from all the pandemonium. _"The price of being a ruler." _ She thought. She walked over to the small dresser. The top of it was covered in all sorts of perfumes and flowers and other small objects. She picked up the silver brush with rubies in it. And began running it through her soft, full hair. She watched herself in the mirror as she sat down.

The mirror began to swirl and turn black. She stiffed. She wasn't prepared for the surprise. She thought it could be a friend or foe. She watched cautiously as the other side of the spell became clear. First she saw the oily dark skin of Nasuada. Her red dress was shockingly beautiful against her dark brown hair. Then she saw Arya. She held in her joy at seeing her daughter. Elves were an emotional race; they just didn't show it to outsiders. It was part of the image; they were to strike fear into an army, ally or not. She put on her face that showed nothing. Arya did the same.

She looked suspiciously from one to another. Islandazí could see there was no one else in the tent. She looked to Nasuada. "Why have you scryed me?"

"I wish to inform you of the Varden's plans. Are you available to speak about such things?" Nasuada asked. The girl was always respectful, but serious and affirmative in her thoughts. She had the qualities of a good leader, but she was far too young to have the wisdom of a good leader. She never liked that Nasuada didn't greet her with the elves' greeting. It was rather formal, but it was a custom. She let it slide as she always did. Islandazí also noticed Nasuada had said "I" not "we"; this was Nasuada's plan not Arya's.

The Queen nodded once to confirm it, "Yes, we may speak. But only for a short time. I have other pressing matters to attend to." She folded her hands and stood to walk closer to the mirror.

"Of course, Queen Islandazí," Nasuada began speaking, "We plan to move our troops North within the week. We will leave a small detachment behind to put down any riots or retaliations in Feinster. .." She continued on. Islandazí heard her but just listened enough to know what was going on. She looked to her lovely daughter. The daughter she had placed so much faith in. The daughter that had broken her heart. The daughter she had mourned for when she heard the news her and Saphira's egg had been attacked. The daughter that had brought her so much joy when she learned she was still alive and rescued by Eragon. The daughter that had disowned her for duty. Islandazí was proud that she picked duty over family, but it hurt none the less.

Nasuada talked about supplies and troop orders. She quoted how many men were dead and injured. Islandazí thoughts turned to Eragon. Shadeslayer, Shur'tugal, the savior of her daughter. Islandazí owed him a life, in exchange for saving Arya's. He didn't know it, but that was why she had always obeyed him. Not because of his dragon, and not because he was a valuable ally, but because he risked his life to save someone he didn't even know. He didn't have to and no one asked him to save Arya. He did it by his own free will and she helped him with her own free will.

"I will do as you ask, Nasuada." Islandazí replied. She hadn't really been paying attention, but she had listened to Nasuada's entire ramble. Mostly what Nasuada talked about was just reports and updates. Islandazí looked at Arya. She hadn't said a word. She mostly stared at the mirror, blankly ahead. "_To bad you can't read thoughts through scrying_." She thought to herself. Nasuada finally finished. Islandazí waited a minute to give her time to make sure she didn't leave anything out.

When the Queen was sure Nasuada was done, she began talking, "There is important news here also." Arya's eyes focused onto Islandazí.

"Well, what is it?" asked a curious Nasuada.

"We may have a slight problem."

"Eragon arrived all right, right? He arrived on time? He wasn't delayed, was he?"

"No, no," Islandazí corrected, "He arrived and is fine. However, he brought someone with him. I think she is a _major_ problem."

"Why is that, Mo – your highness?" Arya asked. Arya kept on a straight face, just like Islandazí had taught her. It brought joy, but also pained her that after all this time, Arya was still about to call her "mother".

"She is Greyfolk." Islandazí said it straight out. Arya looked astonished. Nasuada looked perplexed.

"Greyfolk? What are Greyfolk? I have never heard of them." Nasuada asked. She sounded a little either worried or agitated, or perhaps a little bit of both.

"That doesn't surprise me. They are a very powerful and magical race. They are the ones who made the Ancient Language. They look like humans. In fact, I wouldn't be able to tell you the differences between human and Greyfolk features." Stated Queen Islandazí. "They are also supposed to be extinct."

"How is this even possible for a Greyfolk to be here? They are native to Alalёa, like elves, but they never came to Alagaёsia." Arya said.

Islandazí nodded her head. "Do you remember Jia?" Arya didn't answer but gave a questioning look. Arya definitely remembered Jia. She taught Arya some magic and was constantly around Islandazí. "She was Greyfolk. I was sworn not to tell. This girl Eragon brought with him is her daughter."

Arya shook her head in disbelief. "She had ears like and elf."

"She put a spell over herself so she would blend in. She was Greyfolk."

Arya was still in shock. "She was the most powerful elf I had ever seen or even heard of."

"Because of her heritage. She also told me once; she was powerful, even for one of her race."

"How strong is her daughter?" Arya asked; she was almost afraid of what the answer would be.

"I am afraid I don't know, but I fear even greater than her mother. She is also smart."

"Powerful and smart. Well, this is a fortunate combination." Arya said with agitation.

"I will go to her and ask her a few more questions. Our meeting is at an end." Said Islandazí with authority. She could still see the look of confusion on Nasuada's face when Arya let go of the spell. Her mirror again swirled. She was looking at herself again. Alone. She wondered if she was supposed to feel guilty for not telling them Madrid was a servant of Galbatorix. She would have never gotten them to stop the questions. Arya would have passed out from exhaustion before they finished. Arya had been through enough. She could take care of one Greyfolk. Even if she was the most powerful of her race.

Islandazí straightened herself in the mirror. She smoothed out her dress and walked gracefully to the door. She walked down the corridor towards the dungeons. She looked like a queen indeed. She saw herself for what she really was: a warrior.

**A/N: hey guys! Sorry it took me so long to update. I didn't know if I would be able to get a chapter out this week. If I need an extra week to work on a chapter, I'll post it on my profile and give you guys a heads up. Hope you liked the chapter! Review!**


	19. Debts and Promises

Chapter 19

"Debts and Promises"

Islanzadí walked straight and tall through the halls. She didn't even slow as she approached the door. The guard bowed low and opened the door before she was even near it. She acknowledged him with a tilt of her head and kept walking. She lifted her skirt ever so slightly so she wouldn't trip on the stone stairs. She walked at a brisk, but not fast pace. She reached the first door of the dungeons. She had to stop at this doorway. A tall man sat at the table looking over records. She could see him through the bars on the door. He looked up at her; he realized who it was and stood immediately and bowed as low as the first guard did. The jailer flipped quickly through his keys until he grabbed the right one. She could hear the lock pop when he turned the key. The door swung inward and the man stood at attention. "I am here to see the prisoner. Open the door." She stated with authority.

The jailer bowed again and went to the second door. This door wasn't like the others in the castle. This one was made of solid oak and had no window or even a crack to see into. There was also a magical barrier on it so that the jailer with the keys wouldn't be tempted to give in to the pleas of the prisoners. The only way to know if the guards or prisoners truly needed anything was if a guard on the inside sent a tendril of thought over followed by a password that only the most trusted knew.

The jailer once again flipped through his keys until he seized two of them. One was bronze the other was silver. He held them together and whispered over them in the Ancient Language. They melted into each other and became one intricate and detailed key. The color was a dull lifeless gray. Dead vines and roses were engraved onto it along with a skull. It was hauntingly beautiful. It reminded her of the peace of death. She had always been fond of the key. She wasn't sure why she liked it so much; it fascinated her, she guessed.

She heard the pop of this lock also. The jailer slowly pushed the door in. Islanzadí stood frozen against the scene that lay before her.

The first thing she noticed was Madrid. She stood facing her cell, but from the outside. She looked to be in such a rage she didn't even notice the door opening. Madrid was rigid and glared at Eragon.

Eragon was in Madrid's cell. Islanzadí stood in shock and horror at him. He also looked to be angry. He grasped the hilt of his sword, Brisingr. The blue point was pushed through the bars and towards Madrid's neck. She could see him breathing heavily; his chest heaved in anger. His eyes were wide as they stared Madrid down.

Islanzadí looked up toward his window. One giant blue eye covered the window. She could see the smoke as it rolled from Saphira's nostrils. The blue eye watched them all and no one moved. She saw the guards on the ground like rag dolls. That was why the jailer didn't know what was going on.

Islanzadí was the first to break the silence. She couldn't think of anything else to say so she said the first thing that came to her mind, "What is going on here?"

Madrid looked at her like she just realized the Queen was standing there. Her head whipped around and black locks went flying. She focused her attention on Islanzadí. Madrid held a hand up towards Eragon and the other at her. Eragon watched her out of the corner of his eye. He held his sword with both hands in a death grip. Islanzadí began walking towards Madrid and Eragon when Madrid said, "Go ahead, Eragon, tell her how you got to be on the inside and how I am on the outside." She said it with a smirk and almost a dare. He looked from Madrid to Islanzadí. He wasn't going to give into her game and answer.

Islanzadí was close enough. Madrid looked towards Eragon. "Jierda," said the queen as the yellow-white light came from her hand. Madrid saw it coming and stepped to the side, but not enough. Islanzadí wondered if she did it on purpose. It hit Madrid in her left shoulder. She was thrown back a step as her shoulder was shattered. She didn't cry out though; she only grimaced and covered it with her other hand. "Release him." came the command. Madrid stood straight and tall she removed her hand and revealed the mangled arm. Madrid looked down at it and the gaping wound began to heal faster and faster. Soon the entire wound was healed. She looked back up. She didn't even look slightly drained. Blood still ran down her arm even though her shoulder was once again perfect and smooth.

"Only you can do that." Madrid snapped back.

Islanzadí was puzzled. She tread carefully; if she stepped wrong, it could be the last thing she ever did. "What do you want, Madrid?"

"Jia, my mother, owes you a debt. A life for a life was the agreement. Since my mother is dead, it is my responsibility to return the favor. His life for my mother's. That's what I'm offering." She still held her hand out towards Eragon. Islanzadí knew she would do it. But what could she do? She had never forgotten about the debt; in fact, that was the one thing she held over Madrid. So that was why she didn't try to escape. Once the debt is settled she may do whatever she likes. "Do you honestly think this is a fair trade, Madrid? Eragon means a lot to me, but he also is vital in defeating Galbatorix."

"my mother meant a lot to me, but you still cast her out. You helped her leave and in doing so saved her life, but you also could have fought for her. maybe she wouldn't be dead now. I don't need a farm boy to destroy Galbatorix. I agree, Galbatorix is evil, but he is not stupid. It's going to take a lot more than a farm boy to destroy him. Eragon is just a man like everyone else, and I will kill him if you don't agree to it. So end the debt in the Ancient Language and I will set him free."

Islanzadí looked at Eragon. He looked back at her. His jaw was set tight, but his eyes were full of worry. So were Saphira's. Madrid wasn't leaving her with much of a choice. It was either save the dragon rider or watch him be killed probably followed with her own death nonetheless. She realized her hands were in fists with her nails cutting into her palm. She stretched her hands twice before her nails began digging in again.

Madrid looked at Eragon, "And you, you must tell your dragon not to harm me for holding you for ransom. She must swear it upon your life in the Ancient Language." Fiery green eyes bored into him as he tried to convince Saphira. The dragon seemed appalled at the idea but submitted anyway. She repeated the oath after Madrid. Madrid tilted her head to acknowledge the great lizard. Saphira's nostrils filled with smoke and her eyes burned against Madrid.

"It's up to you, Your Highness," she said mockingly. It was saying Madrid was in control, even though she wasn't supposed to be. "Eragon's life remains in your hands. Choose wisely, he's not the only one who will be affected by your decision."

What else could Islanzadí do? The Varden couldn't stand to lose such a valuable asset. He was vital to their cause. She whispered in the Ancient Language, "Jia's life was saved by me and therefore owes me a life in return. Since the passing of Jia, the task falls upon her daughter, Madrid. I therefore use this debt to grant Eragon Shadeslayer his life. The debt is paid."

Although you couldn't see anything, you could see a change in Madrid. She relaxed and put her hands by her sides. She stood up taller – if that was even possible. She looked as though physically she had carried the weight of the debt on her back all those years. It was lifted from her shoulders in that moment. That was what she had been waiting for.

Madrid looked over to Eragon; she put her hand back up towards him. He held the tip of his sword pointed at her. The roots began to dance with life. Rocks and clumps of dirt fell from the ceiling. When the opening was big enough, Eragon stepped through. He kept Brisingr pointed towards Madrid as he circled around to her other side. She also faced him in return. He pushed the sword closer until it rested at the hollow of her neck. She picked up the tip and pushed it away from her face. "Put it away. It will do you no good." She commanded.

He slowly and reluctantly slid Brisingr home to its scabbard. He eyed her carefully. A low growl came from behind them. Madrid turned to see Saphira's jaws in the window. "Do not forget your oaths, dragon."

"_DO NOT THINK YOU OWN ME!"_ Shouted the blue dragon. "_This isn't over two-legs. You will find dragons are not so submissive." _Madrid looked at her offhandedly and focused her attention to Islanzadí.

"So what are we to do now?"

"Well, "the queen started with utter shock and just a hint of anger. "You are going nowhere from these dungeons! You are a threat to what we stand for. Our debt is paid. I don't need to keep you alive anymore. Perhaps I should have you killed for treason?"

"You won't kill me." Madrid said in disbelief.

"Try me."

"Fine. You won't kill me because of knowledge. I know the secrets to magic. I know Galbatorix's plans. I know many things you cannot even comprehend. And you won't kill me."Madrid said with an assured tone. "And obviously your guards are no match for my skills." She looked Eragon up and down. "Not even your precious Dragon Rider was able to stop me. So I suggest that you both watch me at all times. To do that though I would have to stay by your side. I certainly couldn't do that here."

She had a point. Thought Islanzadí. "Alright then you will stay with one of the three of us at all times. You will be treated as a servant and will have no rights."

"One of the _three_ of us?"

"Yes of course, Eragon, Saphira, and myself."

She looked at the angry dragon. _"You had better hope they don't leave you alone with me, two-legs."_ Saphira growled.

**A/N: *dunt dunt duh* haha K guys a more exciting chapter this week. Any of you curious how Islanzadí saved Jia's life? Well stick around and find out! **

**Anyways I received a message from a reviewer telling me about a spelling mistake with one of the names (thank you)! I probably won't be able to go back and correct all the chapters but I will use it in future chapters. So if you guys see a major mistake (like a name or place not just grammar and a few spelling mistakes that only happen a few times) send me a message! (Please not in a review that's just embarrassing)! **** Well thanks so much for reading! Review and give your opinion!**


	20. Enemy or Ally

Chapter 20  
"Enemy or Ally?"

Madrid followed behind Islanzadí and in front of Eragon. Saphira had gone off hunting, because she said that she needed to kill something. They came up the steps to the heavy door. The guard on the other side opened it when Islanzadí knocked. The guard bowed from his waist as the procession marched by. Islanzadí didn't acknowledge the elf at the door and neither did Madrid. Eragon nodded his thanks to the slender elf, but quickly moved along. Madrid noted how each guard stood and was placed. She would remember the faces, at least the important ones. The secret to escaping a fortress wasn't knowing the walls; it was all about knowing the right guards. Madrid only noted the ones Islanzadí acknowledged in front of others. Those were the guards with the true power. This guard was one of little standing; he was probably fairly new and was trusted with little and minor things. The queen probably didn't even remember his name.

Madrid was supposed to still be the prisoner, but she walked like a queen herself. Islanzadí didn't look back and kept walking. Madrid didn't know where she was going, but just silently walked behind the Queen. Madrid wasn't aware of the time. She had noticed the sun as it reached for the horizon when she was in the dungeon, but this part of the palace had no windows. It seemed as though they walked for about half-an-hour. Madrid was becoming aware of how big the castle really was. The one in Uru'baen was much larger, but for the small city of Ceunon, it seemed to stretch on endlessly.

Islanzadí finally came back to one of the big, main halls. Grand windows let the purple and orange glow of sunset stream through the white curtains. The tapestries seemed to dance with life as the golden rays touched them. Islanzadí paid no attention to it and kept walking stately on. The queen stopped at majestic double doors and waited for the guards to open them. They both bowed at the waist and seemed to mimic each other. They both went to the door at the same time, put their hands on the handle and pulled the doors open on oiled hinges. The queen gave the slightest nod of the head that Madrid had ever seen. These guards she would remember. They looked like most elves, angled face, high cheek bones, and long silver hair. They looked like twins, or at least brothers. The only difference was the one on the left had blue eyes and the other had green. Madrid also tilted her head until she was looking almost at their boots. Madrid picked up her head and followed the queen through.

The room had a beautiful domed ceiling. You could see a few of the stars peek through the sky as the last rays of daylight still lingered in the heavens. In the center was a large table. It looked to be solid oak and gleamed as light hit it. At the head was a large, ordinate chair, with carvings and red velvet on the seat and back. This no doubt was the ruler's seat. Along the sides of the table were twelve seats on each side. Each chair was also intricately carved, but not near as grand as the head chair. A large rectangular mirror hung on the wall to the left of them; probably used for scying. About five or six rows of simple chairs were gathered and in a boxed off area for onlookers. This was the official business room in the castle. This was where the important decisions were made; this was where history was made. This was where many people were condemned for crimes and where some found freedom. "_Either way,"_ Madrid thought, "this_ room had affected many people's lives."_

Islanzadí turned around and faced Eragon and Madrid. "We have some business to take care of. First off, what to do with the egg?" She looked questionably at Eragon.

Eragon looked at Madrid. Madrid looked straight ahead. "Should we really be discussing this in front of… her?" Eragon asked; Madrid sensed a bit of disgust in his voice, but it wasn't to be unexpected after what she had done.

"It doesn't really matter. The egg is of none of her concern. In addition, she probably knows more about it than anyone else."

"Just because she knows about it doesn't mean she will tell us anything." Eragon said angrily. He shot Madrid a sidelong glare. She felt his eyes on her but didn't turn his way. She instead looked at the queen.

Islanzadí looked back at Eragon. "Hmm…, I guess you are correct. So I see that the only solution is to give her the egg."

"WHAT!" Eragon exclaimed. Madrid's grew wider at Islanzadí proposal. Even she didn't expect it. "You trust _her_ with the egg! She's a servant of Galbatorix! She locked me in a cell; Madrid cannot be trusted, especially with that! That's just… well…. Why?"

The queen cocked her head slightly to the side, "Well, you said it yourself; she knows more about the egg than anyone else. And since she is a servant of Galbatorix, she must have been very well educated on the subject of dragons to earn the right to carry the egg for him."

"Yes, but since she is able to carry the egg, it means Galbatorix trusted her. Why would he trust her other than she is loyal to him above all else!" Eragon continued to shout. He would not let this happen.

"Your highness," Madrid cut in almost teasingly; she said, "I am supposed to be treated as a servant. That was part of the deal. Tell me, do you go around just handing out important jobs such as these? I would hope not, for it is foolishness. Even I agree with Eragon." She took a glance at Eragon's surprised face, then turned away and looked ahead.

Eragon jumped right in again, "Do you see now? Even the enemy agrees! What you are suggesting is insane! Why not let Saphira and I continue to carry the egg? We are much more trustworthy than _her_." Eragon looked Madrid up and down with a glare.

"That is an option, but is that really wise? I have just spoken with Nasuada; she wishes for you and Saphira to return to the Varden with the next shipment of supplies. If you carry the egg into battle, there is more of a risk of Galbatorix getting the egg back. Even if you leave it in your tent, there is still a chance of attack or invasion. If it stays with Madrid, first of she will not be suspected. And secondly, she will be on probation for quite some time and will be staying with me. If Galbatorix gets this back and it hatches for him, all we have worked for will be wasted. At least here it might hatch for an elf."

"Is that what this is about? You want to keep the egg here so it will possibly hatch for an elf?" Eragon was fuming. The questioning look of his face said what his words could not. He stood with his hands out to his sides in a questioning manner.

"_Demand it, Eragon. Remember what I said, you get more answers when you demand, not ask."_ Eragon's head snapped toward Madrid. She stood straight ahead and acted as if she never said anything. It amazed Eragon how easily she slipped through his mind when he wasn't paying attention.

Eragon turned back towards the queen, "I am the best candidate to keep the egg. Saphira and I will protect it with our lives –"

"That's exactly what I don't want you to do," Islanzadí cut in, "if the egg remains here there will be no need for you to risk your lives, and you can focus on one task: defeating Galbatorix."

"I know you want the next dragon for an elf, but not all humans are bad and as evil as—"

Eragon was cut off again by Islanzadí, "I know you mean well Eragon. And although I have confidence in you, without Orosmis and Glaedr to help the next Rider, it would just be easier if the next Rider was an elf. They would already know magic. All you would have to teach them is how to be a Rider, and nothing more."

Eragon shook his head. _"She just doesn't understand. The dragon shouldn't have a limited amount of people to choose from. They should be free to decide for themselves. I mean, look at Saphira; she spent all those years being carried back and forth, and then hatched for someone who didn't even know there were still eggs in existence."_ Eragon said, not particularly to anyone.

He got an answer anyway, "_Why not tell her that then? Eragon, no one can even consider the possibility if you don't first put a seed in their mind."_ Madrid's voice was rather gentle, compared to usual. Gentle but with a sting of demanding.

Eragon was considering speaking, but Madrid saw he wasn't going to. She spoke up instead, "Queen Islanzadí, that doesn't seem right. Like you mentioned I am well educated on dragons and their eggs. They will not hatch for someone they don't want to; limiting them to a single group of people isn't right." Madrid could see she didn't sway the queen one bit. So she continued, "If a seamstress told you that you could have any dress you wanted, yet only showed you a few types of material, it would be cruel. If you limit that egg you are taking away one of the dragon's rights. And no matter how hard you try, you cannot control a dragon; even when it's still in its shell. Dragon's are patient creatures; even more so than elves. It will hatch for whoever it wishes to hatch for; that might be an elf and it might not be. You have to accept the fact that this is not your choice to make."

Islanzadí folded her arms across her chest. She sighed. "I cannot dismiss your words, Madrid, but I cannot trust them either."

Eragon was confused by Madrid's behavior. It was almost like she didn't want the egg. Right as she was going to get her way she changed her mind and wanted it the opposite way. Islanzadí looked from one to the other. She nodded as she thought over some things. "For now I purpose that the egg stay with Saphira, but only temporarily. It will take time to gather supplies for Nasuada; we will decide before you and Saphira leave." She said pointing at Eragon, "we will discuss this matter later. For now, protect that egg with your life. Then we will see who is better suited for the task."

Islanzadí straightened herself and walked between the two. She had gotten her way, at least for the time being. She watched the doors move quietly open for her, and she gracefully walked through.

Madrid and Eragon were left alone again. Eragon stared at his boots as he folded his arms. Madrid gave him a sidelong glance and waited for the awkward silence to pass. It didn't. Madrid was beginning to feel uncomfortable and broke the silence. "When it told Saphira I had worked with Eldunarí before, she said I could possibly help with Gleadr's."

Eragon's head snapped up to meet hers. "What makes you think I trust you? You're the enemy. I'm not letting you go anywhere near him. Just leave it alone, he will come around, eventually. He just needs some time." He said defensively.

Madrid shook her head, "You don't know what to do, Eragon. Right now he probably hasn't communicated since Orosmis died. It's almost as if he died as well. You won't be able to break through if you don't know how. I do; I've done it before. It takes time and perseverance. It will also give you back a teacher. I'm not the enemy, Eragon; I'm just a different kind of ally."

**A/N: not much to say. So….REVIEW. Please **


	21. Breaking Point

Chapter 21  
"Breaking Point"

Eragon tossed Madrid's words through his mind over and over again. "'_I'm not the enemy, just a different kind of ally."_ He quoted in his mind.

"_If she is an ally then she must prove it!"_ Said Saphira with a firm tone, "_so far she has proven her magic and trickery. I do not trust her and never will."_ Saphira was almost to the palace after her hunt. Eragon was sure he would see her bright blue wings within the hour as he waited with Madrid and walked back to the stables.

"_On the other hand, she has done nothing to physically hurt us, yet. Maybe she is just waiting for an opportunity for us to show her we are willing to at least try and trust her."_

_"You are too forgiving, Eragon. If it was just me and her I would rip her to shreds, without a hint of remorse. But she is waiting for an opportunity."_ At first Eragon inwardly smiled to himself until Saphira finished her statement. "_An opportunity to kill or betray us."_

"_You don't know that." _he argued back.

"_And neither do you. She has proved herself to me. I don't like her."_

_"I think we should let her at least try to get through to Glaedr. I can't bear to see him like this anymore. I fear he is already dead to us; Galbatorix would have trusted her with it and she knows the penalty of failure for him would be death. She must be good at it or he wouldn't have let her anywhere near the Eldunarí."_ Eragon pleaded.

_ "She is good at it, and that is what I don't like."_

_ "Please, Saphira, it may be our only chance. We can stay with her the entire time. We won't leave Glaedr alone."_

"_I want you to know that I don't like it one bit, but for Glaedr's sake I hope she can help."_ Saphira consented.

When Eragon and Madrid reached the stables, she took several steps inside and realized Eragon was still at the door. "Aren't you coming? I wish to see Ajax and get my things."

Eragon nodded firmly and walked past her. She fell into line behind him as he led her to the black stallion's stall. When the horse heard footsteps his head swiveled around and glanced at the passersby. At the sight of Madrid his ears perked up and he trotted up to the door. Ajax tossed his mane at the arrival of his mistress. Madrid kept her pace behind Eragon until she was even with the stall door. She reached out her hand and the horse pressed his nose into her open palm. She ran her hand up his face and down his neck as far as she could reach. Ajax nuzzled her shoulder with his nose teasingly. She gave him a small smile. She walked over to an open feedbag and grabbed a handful of oats. She held her palm out flat and watched as the horse's whiskers tickled her palm. As he ate, she stroked his neck. When he was finished he slightly turned and Madrid could see some dirt on him. She turned to Eragon. "May I brush him; it doesn't look like anyone has done it in a while."

"Well….. Of course." Eragon stuttered. He was a little surprised at how much authority she gave him when they both knew she was the stronger one.

Without another word she saw Ajax's tack opposite his stall. She looked through the saddlebags until she found a brush. She unlatched the hinge and stepped inside with the giddy horse. She kept one hand on him as she brushed in steady, long strokes. The horse murmured in pleasure. Every once I a while Ajax would turn around and nudge her, but other than that he stayed still.

She had already brushed his tail and was just finishing his mane. Eragon hadn't said a word to her the entire time. She wondered if he was talking to Saphira, or if he was thinking about battles of the past and future, or was he thinking about his family, or the village Carvahall, which he used to call home. She finished. Ajax did a half-prance and shook out his mane. She patted him twice and he turned his face to her. She stuck out her hand and he once again pressed his nose to it; she lightly kissed him on the middle of his nose and walked out of the stall.

She took both saddle bags and threw on over each shoulder. "What are those?" Eragon questioned.

Madrid looked almost astonished at his question. "Well, these are my things, my clothes, my armor, and my travel necessities. I want to wash up and change when we get back to the rooms."

Eragon forgot she had spent almost a week in the dungeon. He looked her up and down. She was right, she did need to clean up; her hair was still matted and her dress dirty and torn. He guessed it was alright. "Let me see what's in there."

She looked at him like he was a fool, but he didn't care. He would rather look like one now than be made a fool of later. She set down the bags with a sigh. He opened the flap and looked through. Mainly clothes and armor took up the entire bag, but then he saw some pans and bread and cheese and a canteen of water. There were a few odds and ends things, but nothing potentially dangerous.

"We will wait here for Saphira." He told her as he handed her the saddlebag. "She should be here shortly."

Madrid gave no inquiry or acknowledgement that she heard him, but instead sat on a nearby hay bale. She rolled a thread that had worked its way loose from her bag between her fingers. She watched, transfixed, as the little piece twirled faster. "Madrid." She startled at the voice. "Saphira's here. Let's go." Madrid heard the steady beating of Saphira's wings, as she stood and walked to the door to stand next to Eragon.

Saphira pulled her wings in as she landed gracefully on the stone walkway. She crouched low as the shock pushed her down. She raised her neck when she saw Madrid and let out a low growl. She parted her lips just so the white of her ivory teeth were showing; Madrid understood the meaning. She curtsied slightly, but didn't bow her head so she could watch Saphira.

"Let's go," urged Eragon, "before flames shoot from your eyes. Come on both of you." Eragon tried to act calm, but they stood and glared at each other. Saphira snarled a bit. Madrid gave a look that would surely strike fear into any person, but she wasn't up against a person, her opponent was a dragon. "Saphira," Eragon's tried to put a sense of power into his voice. "It isn't worth it, not now at least."

_ "Your right, Eragon, she isn't worth anything."_ Saphira lowered her defense. She growled one final time before turning to follow Eragon. Madrid picked her saddlebags off of the ground and slung them over her shoulder. She took a few steps forward; she stopped when she heard the piercing cry of a raven. She looked around a bit and tried to spot it, but couldn't find the black bird. It cawed again; this time she found it. Only the raven was snow white. She thought it was curious and fascinating. She took note of it then jogged until she caught up with the dragon and her Rider. Eragon rode on top of Saphira but kept a close eye on Madrid as she walked beside.

As they approached the tree house Eragon slid down the side of Saphira and jumped the last remaining feet. His feet touched the ground with a hard thump. Saphira took off and circled the tree a few times before Madrid saw her go into the large window at the back of her room. Eragon gestured with a hand, "come on, Saphira will meet us in her room."

Madrid tilted her head in answer and followed him quietly behind. Madrid idly followed until she realized they were in the hallway to her room. When he stopped at the door she gave him a questioning look. "You said you wanted to clean up and change. Well, here's your chance." He opened the door and gestured for her to go in.

"Thank you, Eragon." She muttered as she kept her head down. Her green eyes glanced up at his as she walked through the open door.

Eragon walked across the hall and into his own room. He sat wearily on the bed and put his head into his hands and sighed. "_What am I going to do?"_ he asked himself. "_I don't know who to trust, or how to even tell if I can trust them. Islandazí has her own intentions for the egg; Saphira thinks she is the best keeper, which I can't say I disagree. And Madrid serves Galbatorix, but might be our best option. Islandazí did have a point; she would know more about the egg."_

_ "Eragon, I was an egg. I know what it feels like, how hard it is to spend an eternity without contact and being left along with your thoughts forever. I can help this egg the most. You should know that."_

_ "I want to believe you, Saphira, and I do to a point. I believe you are the best to provide comfort to it, but only its rider will ever understand it. Right know we need someone to keep the egg from Galbatorix. Who else better than a captive, she would be undetected. And what if you are captured or hurt, or if I am. I know you would give your life to save mine, even if it was in vain. And what if…"_

_ "And what if the sky falls from the heavens or if the stars wage war against us. Eragon this is not about the 'what ifs'; it is about saving my kind and the Riders as well. It is about defeating our enemies and breaking beliefs. It is about our destiny and the destiny of this egg."_

Eragon chuckled, "_as always you are right. When I bring her down there I am going to have her try to get to Glaedr. I hope it works."_

_ "For her sake, I hope it works."_ Saphira said with a low growl.

Eragon heard his door open. "I thought I might find you here." Said Madrid. She looked as beautiful as ever. Her silky black hair gleamed in the lamplight. She wore tan pants and an earth- tone, green tunic. The sleeves were loose and she wore a brown belt around her waist. Her green eyes seemed to shine with a newfound intensity.

Eragon stood and walked over to her. "Saphira is waiting for us; we need to speak with you."

"Of course." She said submissively. Eragon was worried; he had always thought she could never be this corporative. It wasn't like what he had seen of her before. He was even more cautious now that she could strike and any minute. He would not be caught by surprise.

Saphira was waiting patiently for them; she was lying down, just know Madrid realized Saphira had to lie down because of her height. Eragon closed the door behind and Madrid looked suspiciously at him. She could tell this was for her ears only, but that was fine with her. She knew how to keep secrets. Madrid cautiously watched Saphira in case she would lash out.

"Madrid, as you know Glaedr is dead. He left with us his Eldunarí, but ever since Orosmis died…"

She silenced him with a raised hand, "I know what you mean. I've seen it too many times to count. What is your point?"

"Well, I know you have worked with them before and I want you to help him." Madrid gave him a quaint, humorless smile.

"You are learning not to ask and demand. Good I'm glad I could help in at least one way. But I will only consider it if I can be sure it will just be Glaedr and I when I am helping."

"_No, absolutely not!"_ Saphira cut in.

"Why?" asked Eragon.

"Because I can guarantee you aren't going to like what you see. I can only help him one way or he will be lost forever. I have seen others try different ways, but they all fail. Most don't have the strength to do it. I do; I will do whatever it takes, and you don't like that." Said Madrid with authority. She was her old self again. No longer submissive, but defiant. She was always looking for ways to control Eragon, or so it seemed. Eragon looked at Saphira; she glared back with deadly blue eyes.

"We will stay, and you will help him."

She stared at him for a few moments before nodding her head. "Fine, but do not interrupt. If you can watch no longer, step outside. Better yet, leave the building I do not want to do anymore than I have to. I will warn you though; this will be the first of many sessions. I have done this twice before. One took me a year and four months; my second took me almost three years. May I begin?"

Eragon hesitated but walked over to Saphira's saddlebags. He stooped and pulled out the great glowing, golden sphere. It shimmered and Eragon felt the dragon's horrific pain within himself. He wanted to cry or vomit or both. He set the sphere before Madrid. "Do it." Was all he told her.

She knelt by the gem. She put her hands close to it, but didn't touch it. She caressed the outside of the glow. She took deep breathes as she closed her eyes. She felt it all around. Then she touched it. At first nothing happened. Her forehead wrinkled a bit, he could see her eyes move under her eyelids.

Then she released her magic into him. She went rigid. Her muscles tightened; her jaw clenched together. Her forehead wrinkled painfully together. She breathed in sharply.

That's when Eragon heard the scream.

It was otherworldly. He hoped it would stop and he would never hear it again. It brought to memory all of the sad and terrible things that had happened in his life and amplified them. He covered his ears, but it was too late the scream had already infiltrated his system. He couldn't get rid of the lingering echo, it pierced through him, gave him pain like he had never felt before. The cream turned into complete pain. It was all he could think about; he thought it lasted forever and a second all at the same time. He looked around the room through watery eyes. Saphira had turned her head away. He could feel her with his mind. Madrid's back was arched and her head thrown back. Her hands were still touching the eldunarí. He expected to find her mouth open, letting out the unearthly scream, but her lips were pressed tightly together. Her eyes were shut and her body tense. It was then Eragon realized the scream had come from Glaedr.

All of the sudden it stopped. The scream still lingered in his mind, but it had finally stopped. Eragon almost wanted to cry with joy because it stopped. He could feel his mental contact with Saphira again. He looked to Madrid. She was collapsed on the ground, her hands had finally let go of the golden heart. Eragon staggered over and tried to get her up. Her eyes slowly opened and she began to push herself upright. "What happened? What was that scream?" Eragon asked immediately.

"That is what happens when you try to break them." She answered casually.

"Break them? What do you mean, 'break them'."

"I mean break the hold over them. He went through the most painful thing he has ever endured. Pain put him in this; pain is the only thing that can get through to them. The only way to make them forget the pain of losing someone is to give them a greater pain. That is what I tried to do."

"Tried. Does that mean it didn't work?" Eragon asked worried.

"No, like I said I once spent three years trying to break one. Pain this great is hard to overcome. When they fight back I know they are broken. They will hate me, because of the pain, but they will also thank me, for taking the first pain away. The pain I give them will stop temporarily, but the pain they had before was constant. The screams will get worse, much worse. This is why most of Galbatorix's slaves can't do it. They can't stand the pain it gives them as well; it also takes an incredible amount of energy to create that much pain. In some of the final stages of breaking, I will be unconscious for several days. This is not an easy task you gave me. Not for anyone."

Eragon looked to his teacher, "W_hat have I brought upon you, my friend?"_ Eragon thought he saw a glimpse of Glaedr's eye. He looked up to Saphira. She looked to the ground with sad eyes. He turned back to Madrid's fierce eyes.  
"This is why you should've listened to me when I told you to leave." Madrid stated.

**A/N: hey sorry for the delay in the upload. **** Just couldn't get a break. Anyway, what do you think about the eldunarí breaking, good theory or a dud? Either way I'm sticking to it, but it's always nice to get a second opinion. And I just want to thank all of you that review every chapter. I always look forward to what you're going to say or your opinion on a certain viewpoint. I literally live for feedback. In other news, we are doing the Wizard of Oz for our high school musical and I got the lion! Yay! Yes I am a girl, but there are like 6 guys in the choir who won't try out so good for me! Sorry that has nothing to do with my story, but I'm just so excited I had to tell everyone!**

**Please Review!**


	22. Yazuac

Chapter 22  
"Yazuac"

Murtagh lay still as he gathered himself. He breathed in heavily; the smell of fresh bread overtook him. He was in the small village of Yazuac. The few families who lived here were trying to rebuild after the terrible Urgal attack over a year ago. Murtagh was staying at one of the families' houses. He slept in a two story house; the room he was offered was directly over the kitchen. Although the room was small, it was the best they had. The room only had a bed and a small two-drawer dresser that sat in a corner. Thorn stayed outside the town, but all the villagers knew he was there; they also knew who was staying at their house. The son of Morzan, the servant of Galbatorix who followed in his wicked father's footsteps. They didn't know what pain Murtagh had endured to spare them, they didn't know that he had not willingly chose to serve. They didn't know how much he hated his father. He hated that he had to pay for the sins of his father. The townspeople pictured Thorn as a beast that would rip them to shreds in a second without any reason. They also didn't like that Thorn looked like blood. He overheard one of the women say Thorn was covered in the blood of her family. That wasn't true; Thorn was just as innocent as Murtagh. It was out of their hands, they could do nothing to prevent Galbatorix's destruction.

His thoughts turned to their mission. Murtagh and Thorn planned to come up around the Insenstar Lake and keep to the edge of the woods. Anita said Madrid was somewhere around the northern part of Du Weldenvarden. Murtagh planned to find her.

Murtagh hesitated to move. He knew as soon as he went out of the room they would all start with the 'yes, sir', 'would you like anything, your highness' and the continuous bowing. Every once in a while, one timid family member would get up the nerve and shyly ask, "Anything for your dragon, sir?" It wasn't that he didn't think he deserved the respect, because he did. But he knew what they said behind his back. He could here there thoughts, their poisonous words rolled through his mind they all had murderous intentions. In one way or another, they could relate a family or friend whose death had somehow been Murtagh's fault. Murtagh knew as soon as he turned they would be at it again; whispering things that they couldn't even comprehend and after all he had been through; they would never be able to even contemplate what he went through. He was a hero, they just didn't know it. "O_ne day they will see. They will see me with the respect I deserve and they will be ashamed of themselves for thinking of me as they are now." _Murtagh reassured himself.

Murtagh sat up and got out of his small bed. He picked up Zar'roc and hooked the belt around his waist. He adjusted the familiar weight until it was comfortable. He yawned as he stretched his arms out. He had left his empty saddlebag near the doorway where the hostess had set it. He planned to get as many supplies as he could possibly carry. He could tell through their connection that Thorn was still sleeping; Murtagh didn't want to wake the dragon, so he didn't say anything.

Murtagh picked up the empty saddlebag and opened the door. A young woman in her teenage years leaned up against the wall opposite his door. When the door opened she stood up straight and curtsied low, "Anything for you, sir?"

"No." was his blunt answer. He wasn't in the mood to talk. He tried to keep walking but she took a step towards him.

"May I carry that for you, sir?" She asked, gesturing at the saddlebag.

"No, I can carry it fine myself." She looked a little shocked at his answer but kept on asking. He stepped out of the way and managed to get to the bottom of the stairs before she caught up with him again.

"Would you like to go anywhere, sir? I know this place as well as anyone. Perhaps something to eat before you leave?" she asked, hoping for any other response than 'no.'

"No." Said Murtagh with some force. He was getting annoyed with the girl. He almost reached the door, but she was still following him.

"Where are you going?" She finally asked. "ehh…. Sir?"

"Did anyone ever tell you that you ask too many questions?" Murtagh was frustrated with her. He just wanted to be on his way, without the pesky shadow.

"Only my brothers, sir." She answered shyly. In a gust of courage she said back, "did anyone tell you that you are very short in your answers?" Murtagh looked at her in shock and a hint of anger. She seemed to realize what she said. She curtsied too many times to count, "I'm sorry, sir, please forgive me. I spoke without thinking. Please be merciful to me, Rider." She looked up at him with desperate eyes. Murtagh was agitated with her, but not to the point where he would actually hurt her. This girl honestly believed he was going to kill her. She bowed her head and stared at the floor as she waited for his judgment to pass. He was actually impressed with her bravery. It made him feel sort of normal. She, for a second, had treated him like she would have any client that stayed in her home. Murtagh decided to take advantage of her low bow. He looked down at her again and walked through the door.

She stood up and pushed open the door. The young woman stood in the doorway. She waited until he was a few steps away and asked, "Sir, do you need any help finding something?"

Murtagh stopped; he thought she was done with her questions. He wanted to shout 'NO!' in her face, as if that would somehow make it through her thick skull. As much as he wanted to be rid of the girl, he did need her help. He wanted to get supplies, but had no clue where to start. He figured having someone show him where the goods were he could move faster. Thorn and him could fly out sooner than expected and find Madrid. "As a matter of fact, yes, yes I do need help. I need supplies, meat, water, a few other things. Could you show me where I can purchase such things?"

She smiled and blushed a bit, "why of course, sir, it would be my pleasure."

"What is your name anyway?" Murtagh asked realizing she knew who he was and he didn't know her.

"Why, it's Hanita." She said a giggle in her voice.

"Show me where the butcher is, if you even have one in this caravan you call a village." He said in a stern voice. The giddy girl walked in front of him giggling or trying not to, as if there was a joke that Murtagh didn't know, almost the entire way.

Finally they were done. Murtagh's saddlebag was almost overflowing with meats, blankets, skins for extra water, rope, arrows, and anything else he might possibly need. Hanita turned out to be very helpful. He would have spent a few extra hours wandering the streets without his guide. He was finished now and wanted to go to Thorn, but he didn't want Hanita following him. She had been a constant shadow and never stopped asking questions. Murtagh was about ready to be rid of her. "Where are you going?" said the overly familiar voice.

"Back to your house, then I will leave." Murtagh tried to keep the agitated tone out of his voice but he thought a little slipped through.

Hanita giggled again, "No, I mean where are you going that would make you travel through Yaz'ac?"

Murtagh stiffened a little. This was a question he wasn't prepared to answer. Then he told himself, _"I am the one in charge here. I don't have to answer any of her questions. Then again if I don't it will just make her even more curious."_ He tried to think of a reasonable lie, but nothing could come to mind so he just remained very vague in his answer. "I cannot discuss such matters with one as low as you."

"oh." She said, disappointed she turned towards her house and began walking slowly. "I can keep secrets, you know." She said in almost a murmur.

"_Yeah, I'm sure you can."_ Murtagh thought sarcastically. "Galbatorix himself sent me on this mission. If you want to know why I'm here, you'll have to talk with him."

The young woman turned pale. He could see even saying the name Galbatorix frightened her. She turned around and hurried her pace without another word. They walked past a few rundown buildings when Murtagh noticed a local tavern. "Wait," Murtagh commanded. Hanita stopped and turned around.

"Yes?" She questioned.

"I want to buy a drink before I leave."

Hanita looked toward the tavern then back to Murtagh. "I'm not allowed to go in there, sir." Murtagh had expected that. If fact, he was counting on it. Now was his chance to get rid of the girl. "I suggest neither do you." She added.

Murtagh looked down at her, "Why not?"

"Well, it's a tavern. Most of the men are drunk –"

"I've been in a tavern before. I know what to expect." Murtagh cut her off.  
"No, it's not that, sir," she nervously licked her upper lip. "But, they… they know who you are."

"And why would that concern me?"

She licked her lip again, "well…. They know you serve….King Galbatorix." She muttered his name as if saying it would cause demons to arise around her. "In their stupor, they may do something that you both will regret." The laughing of the tavern spilled out onto the street. "By the sounds of it, you're outnumbered quite a bit. I'm sure my father has some ale at home if that's what you want."

Murtagh had to think fast or he would never lose her. "Well, I'm not in Galbatorix service for nothing. There are… benefits, in return for servitude. Being outnumbered isn't a concern to me." He lied. He turned from the horrified look on Hanita's face and towards the bar. He decided to leave his hood down and hoped Hanita wasn't right.

Murtagh pushed away the skin that was draped over the entrance instead of a door. He planned to use magic to turn himself invisible, than simply walk back up to the woods where Thorn was. He stood tall and looked around the room. All eyes turned to him; the laughter slowly died out. Most of the men set down their drinks and turned to the new threat. Murtagh realized he needed a new plan. Murtagh thought maybe he should have listened to Hanita. He walked cautiously to a table in the back. The silence hung over the room. Murtagh sat down and faced the opposing crowd. One of the men stood up and came back. Murtagh looked up into the weather-beaten face. He was a big man with broad shoulders. He walked a little funny, but that was probably from the large amount of ale he gulped down a few minutes before. He stood above Murtagh and looked down at him. "Yer not welcome hur." Said the man in a slurred tongue. "yer nothin' bu Gulbatorix's pet." He spat.

"Sit down, Murdock; you're too drunk to understand what you're saying." Cut in the barkeeper.

The man, Murdock, didn't seem to hear the barkeep. "yer nothin' but a cald blooded marderer." Over half of the room stood behind Murdock. "you and yer red beast can go to hell." All the men had angry looks; they nodded with the man. The man wrinkled his nose like he smelled something sour. He spit on Murtagh's face.

Murtagh stood up so fast his chair fell over. He reached his hand out toward the man. He could end him without a second thought. Murdock stared at Murtagh's hand as it began to glow icy red. With his right hand Murtagh wiped off the saliva on his face. Before Murtagh knew what was happening two of the men grabbed his arms and forced him against the wall. "Keep his hand down!" Murdock shouted. "Or he'll kill us all." Murtagh fought to get free, but the held him too tightly. Murtagh snarled at the man and fought to break their grip on him. They forced his left arm behind his back and twisted it painfully. He grimaced. He saw the fist coming and ducked at the last second. The hand missed him. This made Murdock angrier; he drove his hand upward into Murtagh's stomach. Murtagh fought to find his breath again.

Murtagh knew what he had to do. He swam through his mind, looking for the hidden part of himself. He was almost there; he knew he would have to release the magic with his right hand; it was difficult, but not impossible. He was about to mutter the words when out of nowhere a fist hit him across his head. The world was sent spinning. He fought to regain himself. After a moment or so his vision began to clear. He quickly found the hidden part this time. Murtagh was in a rage now; he changed the words. "Brisingr!" He shouted. Bright crimson flames shot from his right hand. The flames were weaker than they would have been, had he used his left hand, but they still burned the closest people. The heat drove back most of the crowd. The two men holding his arms let go, and covered their faces from the flames.

Murtagh wasted no time. He grabbed his bag and jumped over the counter. When he came in he had seen there was a door back through here. He rushed through it and raced toward the forest; Murtagh could smell the burning flesh as he looked back to see the entire tavern on fire. Several people, including Hanita, raced towards it with bucketfuls of water. He walked the rest of the way to Thorn as he let his anger simmer down as the fire engulfed the building.

When he found him, Thorn lifted his head and looked at Murtagh. Thorn blinked a few times. "_You've had an eventful morning. While I on the other hand have been bored out of my mind."_

"_Sorry I didn't think to send a formal invitation." _Murtagh said sarcastically.

"_Well next time you should. It would have been very thoughtful. You might want to heal yourself. If Madrid sees you like that, she might not recognize you. Then again, who could forget a face like yours?"_ Thorn chuckled at his own wit.

"ha ha." Murtagh almost forgot about his swelling face; he figured his adrenaline had kicked in so he didn't feel it right away. "Weise hiell." He whispered. His left palm glowed slightly. His skin prickled and itched, but it soon went away. Murtagh felt his unharmed face. Murtagh turned the conversation to a more serious note, _"if we leave by noon, we should be at Du Weldenvarden before nightfall. We can set up camp there."_

"_And what shall we do from there?"_ Thorn questioned his Rider. Murtagh looked at the ground and didn't answer_. "Murtagh?"_ Thorn sounded like a parent talking to a disgruntled child, but still Murtagh didn't say anything. "_We must do this right. You know the consequences of failure. There are but three outcomes to our situation."_ Thorn stretched his blood colored wings. He tilted his head slightly to one side as he continued. "_One: we can return to Galbatorix empty-handed. Wasting his time and ours. We would both be punished, you by Galbatorix and me by Shruikan. Or we can follow through and possibly fail. I highly doubt the elves would understand to our cause. We would be most likely captured and used once again against our will. And the last possible thing that could happen is we plan this correctly and by some miracle, bring Madrid back. Those chances are one in three. I don't know about you, but I for one do not like those odds."_

"_Ya' know you are a very inspiring dragon. I feel like we are definitely going to succeed." _Murtagh rolled his eyes. _"I know very well what a risk we are taking. We have to get everything perfect, or it backfires." _

"_Good, I'm glad to know we see eye to eye."_ Thorn looked up at the sun_. "It's almost noon, we should leave."_

Murtagh nodded. He picked up Thorn's saddle and adjusted it properly. He threw the saddlebag over Thorn's back and strapped it to the saddle. They were both eager to be off so they didn't talk much, but both focused on what lay before them. At last Murtagh climbed into the saddle and patted Thorn's side. Thorn settled into a low crouch and spread his crimson wings. With a mighty push he flew into the air. After a few powerful strokes of his wings, they were high above the forest and village. Murtagh could still see smoke tumbling out of the little building. He turned the other way and Thorn chased the horizon.

**A/N: first off, let me apologize for the unusually long update. Just remember people I have school and sports and other things in my life, so I can't always get time to write a chapter. And finally a Murtagh chapter! He is my favorite character to write about (well, Madrid is my absolute favorite), but Murtagh is my favorite guy character to write about. So, I hope you enjoyed! And please bear with me on the updates! **

**REVIEW! Because I said so! Hehe **


	23. Her Transformation: Part I

Chapter 23  
"Her Transformation: Part I"

Breathing. Breathing was all she could understand as he pulled her down the corridor. She could hear herself breathing in short, shallow gasps of air. The gray walls seemed to mock her confusion. He was holding onto her arm to tightly. She half stumbled and half walked as he led her down the hallways. He was angry and had taken it out on her. He had forcefully pulled her into his room and beaten her senseless. She could still feel every punch; his hands seemed to leave a stinging handprint. The last thing she remembered was seeing his fist come towards her face. She couldn't even defend herself; as soon as she woke up he grabbed her arm and started directing her towards somewhere. He was still angry, but not as bad as before. That's what they did, that's what all men did. They used people, and when there done, they throw them out like garbage and refuse.

Things were starting to become somewhat familiar. She recognized some of the doors with symbols cut into them. A star, a horse, a dragon, and a diadem all ordinately carved; each representing a different head mistress. Finally she saw her destination, a dark oak door with a carved heart with the most beautiful vines and leaves carved into it. The man raised his fist and pounded on the door.

She heard a murmur—probably her mistress mumbling a curse out of surprise—and the door handle moved slightly then she heard a soft click. A tall woman stood in the archway; her dark blonde hair was pulled into a tight bun. Her stern face was still handsome, but not as beautiful as it had once been. She wore a maroon dress that was buttoned all the way up to her neck. She looked the man up and down then her eyes turned to the girl. "Can I help you, sir?" She said in a frustrated tone.

"I'm returning her. How much?" the man said gesturing to the damage he cause the girl.

The mistress sighed, "Well, I will have to look more closely, but judging by what I see now, you will have quite a bill to pay. Was this all… just a beating?" she was hoping the man would understand what she was implying.

His eyebrows went up when he realized what she was saying, "oh… ahhh… yes...um the beating, yes. You see I…" he licked his lips, "well I was angry… and well..."

"I don't need details. Bring her in; I will examine her before I give a price." The mistress grabbed her other arm and helped guide her to a bed. Two other girls sat on another bed watching carefully; they both had blonde hair but one had blue eyes and the other had brown. Their dresses were similar to hers and when the man looked their way they looked to the ground. They must have been new; they would soon learn never to shy away, because it would either mean no dinner or no money. The second was worse; that was a crime worth at least two days of torture for them.

She crawled into the bed with the help of her mistress. It felt so good to finally relax her muscles. The mistress touched one of the bleeding scratches on her face. She grimaced and pulled away. Her mistress then moved on and pressed down on her ribs. Pain instantly shot through her whole body. She heard someone scream or yell; then realized it was herself. She took even shallower breaths until the pain lessened a bit. Her mistress sighed again as she pressed her lips together and shook her head. She turned to the other girls, "Bridget," the girl with brown eyes jumped at her name, "Go get one of the magicians, tell them I want them right away. I have a girl with at least two broken ribs and multiple other injuries." Bridget hesitated a moment; that was a mistake. "I said go. Now." Bridget jumped again and quickly walked out the door. Her footsteps became softer and softer as she got farther away.

She heard her mistress talking and yelling at the man who had brought her. She was probably haggling the price. The last thing she saw was the other girl staring at her with terrified blue eyes. The girl probably wondered if it would be her lying broken on the bed. She studied the girl as she tried to remain conscience. She was pretty; the girl had high cheek bones and big eyes. Her skin was fair and her hair was almost white-blonde with streaks of honey through it. She looked at the frightened eyes again as her own faded to black.

She felt tingling. Painful tingling; it felt like a thousand needles were being pulled in and out of her face. She opened her eyes to see a lanky man sitting by her. His eyes were dark brown and almost black. He had a crooked hooked nose and long greasy brown hair. His mouth was curved and looked as if he smelled something bitter. His gnarled hands were spread over her, resting just above her body. That was what the tingling had been: magic. She hated being healed by magic. She thought it was just as bad as getting the bruises in the first place. Then he moved onto her ribs. She saw him lip the words although she knew he said, "Wiese heil" she couldn't hear him. She felt like her insides were turning out. She knew it would be over soon, but it could never be done fast enough. Finally relief washed over her. All the pain was gone; no more stinging and no more of the magician's healing. She knew it could be done with less pain, but they probably did it on purpose. As soon as he was done, he rose from his chair and walked out without saying a word. She sat up on the bed and realized she was alone. Completely alone; always alone. She thought that was always the worse part of her life, waking up alone. She didn't know if anyone would notice if she was gone, really gone, dead gone. She didn't know if anyone would care.

She looked over at the dresser all the girls shared. She saw a paper and inkwell lying on top and walked over. One top was a note in her mistresses' hand that read:

"Going to see that all is well with the other girls.  
If you're reading this you are well enough to walk  
so I suggest you get out of that room.  
If I return and you are healed,  
you will be spending no less than a day with the tortures."

She sighed as she read the note again; just to be sure there were no other orders. When she was sure she had read it thoroughly, she took a deep breath and walked through the oak door. She raised her chin and held her head high, but she really wanted to curl up in a corner and cry.

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**A/N: Ok guys I know it's a short chapter, but it's a chapter right? And the original was really long so I'm breaking it into part so the next one or two chapters will be a continuation of this one. And the reason I didn't update in a while was because I read two new books and reread some favorites. And I highly suggest "before I fall" for anyone 14 or older. It was really good. And right now I'm reading "sunshine" by Robin McKinley but haven't finished yet. So far it's good but kind of hard to understand the world until a few chapters in. But I also want you guys to know that no matter how many weeks I don't post I'm not going to stop the story. I absolutely love this story and won't stop writing until it's finished but some chapters are harder to write than others. Well, anyway hope you enjoyed the first part, but the next few are more interesting, at least I think so.**


	24. Her Transformation: Part II

Chapter 24  
"Her Transformation: Part II"

She walked at a brisk pace and took random turns as she glided through the corridors. She hadn't been walking for long and she avoided any place that she saw other people. She especially stayed away from the ballroom – even when there wasn't a feast or party there were still lords, ladies, and servants lounging or cleaning in and around the grand room. She had only been inside on a few occasions; when they had been requested to sing at the smaller balls. They were never allowed to dance with any of the men or speak without being asked to.

She walked with her head up and her eyes alert. She would not be caught by surprise twice in one day. She walked a few more paces before she heard the sobbing. It was coming from one of the guest rooms. The door was slightly open, and she couldn't see completely into the room. She knocked twice and waited for a reply. The only sound that came was the cry, although this time she could tell it was distinctively female. She pushed the door open completely. The room was clean and neat. The bed was made and had pillows on top laid out in an orderly display, although she never understood why anyone would need so many pillows. She had always been tempted to steal one of the smaller ones; even those were softer than the pillows they slept on. Nevertheless, she could tell no one was staying in this room.

She closed the heavy, wooded door as softly as she could. She locked it behind her. She checked the washroom first but there was no one; she pressed her ear against the wall and the sobbing became louder. Whoever it was was obviously in the closet connected. She walked around and opened the door to a small, insignificant closet. A girl with honey-blonde hair and big brown eyes looked up at her. She stopped sobbing for a second; then began to sob ferociously after she realized she was with a fellow singer.

She looked down at the blonde-haired girl. With a sigh, she knelt down by the girl. The girl's face was red and blotchy from crying; her brown eyes were puffy and thick. She could see the wet lines run down her face—the trails of her tears. She was pretty sure this was the same girl that she had seen this morning. This was the girl their mistress sent to get a magician. "Your name is Bridget, right?" she asked with no emotion. The girl nodded as more tears poured from her face. "Stop crying." Bridget acted like she didn't even hear her. Tears flowed freely from her eyes as she kept sobbing; she didn't even bother to wipe them.

She grasped Bridget's shoulders and gave her a jerk. "Stop crying." Came the command. She shook her again, "I said stop crying. You need to stop crying. Now." Bridget started to choke back her tears, but another wave of emotion hit her and she began crying even louder. "I said stop it. Someone will hear you, and then they'll report you, and then you'll have something to cry about." She shook the girl again but reason didn't reach her thick skull. "Stop crying…" she said through gritted teeth.

She stood to leave. If Bridget wouldn't stop crying, it would be her own downfall, and she wasn't going down with her. For the first time the girl showed a different emotion. Bridget grabbed for her hand, "please…" she said through a sore, pleading throat, "please…. I'll….I'll stop. I promise. Just please, don't go. Don't leave me alone." The girl took a few deep breaths till the worse of it was over. Her face was still red and blotchy.

She sighed and sat back down next to the girl. "You had better be glad I found you before someone else did. Most people would turn you into the head mistress." She looked at the sobbing girl._ "You don't want to know what would happen after that."_ She thought. "We'll have to stay here until your face goes back to normal. It's all red now; it won't do you any good if they know you've been crying." Bridget nodded as she fought back more tears.

_"Wiese heil."_ She thought. She looked over at the girl as Bridget scratched her cheek, but otherwise the girl hadn't noticed the magic. Her red and spotted face went back to pale, porcelain looking flawless skin, but she didn't tell her just yet. Bridget huddled in the corner with her knees pulled up and her arms locked tight around them.

"Does it ever get better… or easier?" The girl asked; her voice cracked only once.

"No, you just don't feel as much emotion, but no, it never gets better."

"So it gets a little easier to deal with, at least?"

_"Wow. This girl really is new."_ She thought to herself. "No, I didn't say that. It's like…" she pause as she thought of a metaphor, "a snow blizzard. The wind keeps blowing snow and ice into your eyes and face; but you eventually go numb. It's still hard to walk and see; you can barely open your eyes, and the cold, bitter wind never dies down. But you keep going anyway, because someday it will end. _Even if it's your death." _She didn't say the last part out loud, but she knew it was true for most of the girls and possibly herself.

They sat in silence for a few moments as the last of her tears subsided. "He grabbed my arm." Bridget started, "I should have seen it coming and I did, but I didn't know what to do…" she almost burst into tears again, "he started kissing my neck…" she put her hand over her neck to indicate where she had mentioned, as if rubbing it would remove the pain of it. "I panicked. I could smell the alcohol on his breath; he couldn't hold me. I ran into the first room that wasn't locked. I don't know how long I've been in here. I'm so scared to leave." She hugged her knees tight into herself. "I'm afraid of what they'll do if he tells."

She shook her head. "Do you know what they'll do?" she said with a little venom in her voice. This girl had no clue what she had just done. "Do you really, actually know what you've gotten into? Or who you're up against? Do you know you only have one option?" Bridget's eyes started to water again. "Don't start that again."

Bridget choked back her tears once more, but with a greater struggle. "What can I do?" she said in almost a whisper. It was the loudest sound she could make without crying again.

She closed her eyes for a second and put her hand on the floor to balance her. "You have to find the man."

Bridget inhaled sharply; she shook her head and her golden locks went flying. "No, please, no. Don't make me go back, please. Please." She begged.

Trying to be compassionate she said, "I'm sorry. But I'm doing you a favor. If he goes to mistress… you will be sent to the basement for who knows how long."

"What is 'the basement'?" she asked with terror in her trembling voice.

So this was what it came to. Making a girl decide which of the two fates were worse: facing a drunken man who you refused, or torture for no less than a week. She didn't know how to explain it to Bridget. Everyone knew what the 'basement' was; then again, everyone knew not to run. "They take you for however long they want, and they teach you a lesson. It is what I think of when I hear the word 'Hell'." Realization overcame Bridget's face. "And if you choose the basement you will probably have to face him anyway."

Bridget turned hysterical. "No, no, no. I can't, I'm begging you, and please I can't. If you are telling me this you are no better than mistress herself. Please don't make me do this."

She took pity on the girl. She knew what Bridget was feeling; she had been through it a thousand times over – or so it seemed. She pulled back her skirt to reveal a thin pouch she kept hidden strapped to her left leg. She opened it and pulled out a thin white tube and twisted off the cap. "Here, go find him," the girl started to protest but she put a hand out and the girl listened again. "Once you're alone, pour this into his wine. Whisper over it 'slytha'. He'll be asleep within moments. Dump out the bottle and make it look like he passed out. Since he's already drunk you shouldn't have a hard time." She picked up Bridget's hand and pressed the white tube into her palm.

"Slytha." A puzzled expression came over her face. "What is that?"

"It is from a magic language."

"Oh. Then, I don't think I can use it. I don't have magic. I've never even seen someone use magic." She said in a depressed tone.

"Yes, you can. It already has the magical properties it needs. It will recognize the word and do as you command. It was designed for one purpose."

"So you designed it… you have magic?"

She said nothing and betrayed nothing, but she was sure the girl had already put the pieces of the puzzle together. She stood up and so did Bridget. A smile came onto the blonde-haired girl's face. She threw her arms around her savoir. "Thank you. I was wrong; you are nothing like mistress." And walked out.

Alone again. Why did everything always end with her being alone? Why couldn't she also have a savior?

She remembered she only had about a half a tube of the sleeping powder left. Not much. She wasn't even sure if such little would work, let alone give her time to get away. She would have to rely on her own strength to hold the spell.

XXXXXXXXXX

She knew that she would have to make more of the powder. She went over the list of ingredients in her mind. She would have to steal a few of the more common elements, and most of the others she had hidden around the castle grounds. It would take her a few hours to get the ingredients together and then she would have to find a spot that she could make it without being seen. It wouldn't be easy to get the supplies; if someone saw her she would probably be put to death.

She was consumed with her thoughts and didn't notice her mistress coming down the hall. Her arm was linked with a young man's. She was talking to him like he was a saint; she had a huge, goofy grin on her face. The girl looked around frantically for any route of escape. She turned around hoping that they hadn't seen her. She was almost around the corner when she heard, "oh there you are. Come back here; I would like you to meet someone." Her voice sounded like a viper. She almost even hissed whenever she said her S's or C's.

**A/N: well let me start off by saying what most of you are thinking, "it's about time you updated!" haha yes it's been a while and there will be a third part to this chapter and I've had writers block lately, but I think I'm all better now and will try to update sooner. Thanks for your patience! **


	25. Her Transformation: Part III

Chapter 25  
"Her Transformation: Part 3"

"Yes, Mistress?" she said as she bowed to her and then the young man beside her. She only bowed as low as was necessary. Just enough to show respect, but not obedience. He looked her up and down like an animal at market. His lips curled into a handsome smile.

The man was actually quite handsome. He had blonde curly hair and bright blue eyes, like the sea after a storm. His smile was sure to make most girls swoon. He was well built and wore a white shirt with a bluish purple vest that was embroidered with gold thread. His brown riding boots came up to his knees. She couldn't tell if he just hadn't shaved in a few days or he was trying to grow a beard.

She looked back to her mistress. "This is Jeremiah." Her mistress began, "he has finally returned after several years of service to the King. Please escort him to the finest room available and extend every courtesy the palace has to offer." Mistress smiled at him as if he was her long lost son. She looked over at him as she added, "Free of all charges."

"Oh madam, I simply could not accept such an offer." Jeremiah said. His voice was deep and fit his physic a little too perfectly. She wished he would have some flaw so it was easier for her to hate him. He half smiled as he looked from her to her mistress.

"OH! Nonsense, I insist!" she just rolled her eyes when they weren't looking and tried to be as pleasant as she could. She decided she didn't like him already. The mistress liked him and that alone was reason to hate him.

"Thank you madam, your kindness is simply unfathomable." He said just before he kissed her mistress's hand. He turned to her and smiled, "Shall we, Miss?" He offered his arm and she returned his smile.

"The finer rooms are in the East Wing, Sir."

"Please, you simply must call me Jeremiah. I am not used to such formalities."

Again she smiled at him. "_If he says 'simply' one more time, I will simply slap it out of him."_

Trying to be as courteous as possible she began with some small talk, "So what exactly did you do in the King's service?"

"Different things here and there. I've traveled all of Alegaёsia and parts of Surda. I am sorry but I simply can't discuss details with –"he took a deep pause and thought about what to say, "I'm sorry but I don't believe I caught your name."

"Don't worry, I didn't drop it." It took Jeremiah a few seconds before he realized the meaning of her comment, but his laugh let her know he took the insult lightly. She told him her name before she reached his room. She knocked on the door lightly before opining the grand oak doors. He nodded his thanks to her before stepping inside.

"So, how long have you been in service to the King?" He mockingly asked. He winked at her.

Any other palace singer would have gasped at such a rude and suggestive question. She just stood there with a blank face as she answered. "Seven months and nine days, sir. Would you like some wine?" She gestured to the small cabinet filled with all sort of different bottles and two glasses.

"Anything red. I find the darker is simply more…enticing. Don't you agree?" He said with a sly smile as he lay down onto the bed.

She coyly returned the smile over her shoulder as she poured. She faced the cabinet as she answered flirtaseously. "I find the darkness suggests mystery, and everyone finds mystery enticing."

She carried the two glasses over to him and sat down next to him on the bed. She handed him a glass as she lay down. She propped herself up her elbow and glanced at him while she took a long sip of the blood red wine. Her strap slid off her shoulder but she didn't bother to push it back onto her shoulder. He took a particularly long draft then set his glass down on the bedside table. He outstretched his hand towards her – an offering to take her glass as well. She gently laid the glass into his strong hand and he set it next to his own. He moved towards her, but she met him halfway.

She let him embrace her; his hands slid all over her back. She used her fingers like feathers as she glided her hand to the back of his neck. She leaned in close, pressing their bodies together as she began to kiss his neck.

Then he went limp. His full body weight lay against her and she pushed him off and gently placed his head on the pillow. Now the difficult part of her plan began.

She took off his boots and threw them on the floor. She also took off his vest and shirt and threw them over a nearby chair. She messed up the sheets and his hair. She picked up her glass and drank the rest them poured the bottle into some of the plants scattered around the room. She put the empty bottle back on the bedside table. She turned to check on Jeremiah.

She remembered when she used to feel something for them. Maybe one would fall in love with her. Not because of what she was, but for who she was. She used to imagine that whoever she was with was her secret lover and he was going to still be there and love her in the morning. And maybe, just maybe he would find a way to take her from the god forsaken palace into a place where she could always see the stars. Somewhere in the mountains where you could climb and sweat and the only reward would be seeing a breathtaking view of a small village or maybe a herd of deer.

She had stopped such nonsense in the first month. It only made it harder on herself. She would always be alone no matter how many she was with. The sooner she realized that the sooner she could move on.

She looked over and saw she forgot to dump his glass as well. She took it over to one of the plants and slowly poured the half empty glass into it. She pulled the cup up and down as she watched the red liquid escape the lip of the cup.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

She dropped the glass as she whirled around. She heard the glass shatter but it seemed far away. There he stood: the man in black.

XXXXXXXXXX

She let out a gasp as she stared in disbelief. _"It's not possible, is it?"_ although she couldn't really call him the "man in black" anymore. He now wore a dark maroon shirt and tan buckskin pants, but he still wore the same black riding boots.

She looked from the man in the doorway to the unconscious one in the bed and back again. He also looked to Jeremiah. He knelt down next to the bed and put a shaking hand to Jeremiah's forehead. He gently slapped him, "Jeremiah, can you hear me?" He ran his fingers through his dark brown hair and he looked to her. She still stood stunned, "What have you done to him?!" His eyebrows wrinkled together in worry and confusion.

"I…I….well…you know him?" she stuttered as she put the pieces together.

"Well, yes, I know him!" She could sense a hint of anger mixed in but it was more from frustration then rage.

He gently slapped Jeremiah's cheek and called his name. He cursed and turned towards the door. Just as he was about to walk out she stepped forward to stop him. "No! Please don't. He's only asleep. Don't tell anyone, please, they would kill me!" Her eyes pleaded with him as he stood in the doorway. Her thoughts traveled back to the first time she met him. "Please? I am just…hiding from love." She outstretched a hand towards him but thought better of it and put it back by her side. She took a timid step back, if he was determined to let everyone know, she couldn't do much to stop him. Something cool touched her foot. She looked down to see the river of wine seeping around her heel. Some touched the black satin ribbon around her ankle. It looked more like blood then wine.

She looked at the man again. His eyes met hers, but he looked away before she could read them. She directed her eyes back to the shattered glass. She knelt down and began gingerly picking up the staggered pieces. She slightly gasped when a piece pierced the palm of her hand. The cut wasn't big, but it was deep and the blood began to flow out of the wound. The glass was still lodged in her skin, but it quickly disappeared under her blood. It ran off of her hand and dripped onto the floor, mixing with the wine. It all happened in seconds, but it felt like an eternity. All of a sudden, a gentle but strong hand took her bloody one. She looked up. He was only inches apart from her. He was so close she could feel the heat coming off his skin.

Without a word, he grabbed a cloth off of the dresser and gently cleaned off the blood around the gash. The cloth became splotched with red as he got closer to the source. He examined it as he dabbed it.

She never took her eyes off of him. Even when he pressed a little too hard, she didn't even flinch. He looked up at her, "I have to get the glass out, but it might hurt a little." He winced as he told her, as if it would hurt him more than her.

She half smiled, "I'm sure I can handle It." she gritted her teeth together but she didn't jerk her hand back when he pulled out the jagged piece.

He took a clean rag and tied it over the cut. A small bit of blood trickled out and stained the fresh cloth. The bleeding had slowed and almost stopped. They sat there for a moment longer until he realized he was still holding her hand. She gently tugged on her hand and he withdrew his own. "Uhh….sorry." he said as he ran his fingers through his hair. It almost seemed as if he was giving his hand something else to do.

She nodded a thank you but she wasn't sure she wanted him to be sorry. His touch was caring and gentle as if at any moment she might break just as easily as the glass. What was she thinking? She couldn't have these feelings for someone. She didn't even know if she was capable of these feelings, but she knew someone like her wasn't supposed to. It was bad for business, and for everyone involved.

He broke the silence first. "It's going to take more than one bottle." He almost laughed as he said it.

It was nice to see his smile. _"No. I mean it's a nice smile, but I can't think of him like…oh never mind."_ She tried to think of something else. She had actually forgotten all about Jeremiah until now. She suddenly realized that she hadn't really processed what he said, "What?"

He still smiled as he said," If there's one thing I know about Jeremiah, it's that he can hold his liquor. And one bottle is barely enough to make him walk crooked."

He knew. He knew what she was trying to do. So why was he telling her this? He should've been dragging her by her hair to the Mistress. But she kept her mouth shut, why would she even give him the idea?

"So how did you do it?" He asked as he opened another bottle. He proceeded to take a long draft of the wine. When he saw her watching, he shrugged, "No use just wasting it. Want some?" She shook her head. She wanted to keep her head clear as possible. "No matter, but I still want to know, how did you knock him out?"

"I hit him over the head." She lied as she poured out another bottle.

"Yeah, sure. Let's pretend I believe that. Why aren't there any bruises or cuts? And what did you hit him with?"

She looked down at the floor as she thought. He voice cut through her thoughts, "You can trust me. Haven't I proved that already?"

"I suppose, but once you hear a secret….you can't UN-hear it."

"You trusted me with one secret, why should another be any different?"

"Some secrets have worse consequences."

"Well you won't know until you try. A plan will always fail if it's never tested."

She looked at the floor again. She didn't say another word as she picked up another cloth and bent down to sop up the spilled wine. He left her in her silence as he took another long swig of his bottle. Hey, maybe if he gets drunk, he won't remember anything anyway. She took a deep breath as she weighted her options. "You aren't going to leave me alone until you find out, are you?"

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Nope. And I can tell if you're lying. Honestly, you really aren't that good at it."

"_He didn't know the half of it." _The rag was soaked through with red. She set it on the ground and leaned on her palms. The cut stung, but she didn't pay attention to it. She was so much at war with herself she didn't realize she squeezed most of the wine back onto the floor. Well here it goes, "I used magic." There it was. Three little words that could get her killed without a second glance. She didn't know what to expect from him, she didn't know what to expect from herself after saying it, and not just to a friend in need. This was different; this could be the start of her undoing. With those words she could have just signed her own death sentence.

"Really?! How? Where did you learn to use magic? Does anyone else know about this?" His wide-eyed expression made him look so much younger. She was surprised, maybe even shocked at his enthusiasm. That certainly wasn't the reaction she was expecting. Did he know what this meant? Then the grin faded he grabbed her shoulders, "Do you realize you could be killed for this! This is treason in the King's eyes!"

"Yes, I know. Which is why I don't make it a habit of telling anyone. I thought you said I could trust you." He left go of her shoulders. She could tell there were a thousand questions just about to overwhelm him.

But he only let one slip, "Could you show me some?"

"Well it's not something you can just flaunt around! If you haven't noticed my magic is a secret! It is also very dangerous, and I will certainly NOT perform any magic here!" she said appalled by his request.

"Well you already did." He said, gesturing to Jeremiah. She shot him a glare that made him shy away a little.

"That was different. It was necessary."

"Could you at least tell me what you did?"

She sighed as she gave into him. "It works almost like a potion. I can make a powder; it dissolves instantly in liquid. Then you just speak a word from the Ancient Language—"

"What's the Ancient Language?"

"Don't interrupt me again." She waited until he nodded then continued. "It is the language of magic. The language of all things. He will sleep now and my guess is until tomorrow morning. Usually it lasts a lot longer but I was running low on supply." She looked up at him. She wasn't sure if he was staring at her intentionally or his gaze just didn't know where else to look.

"Oh…at least let me escort you back to your room."

"NO!" When she saw his surprised face she started to explain in a half whisper, "I have to stay here. At least until midnight or later so the others think that I'm….." She caught her words right before they slipped out. She really didn't need to say them; he understood what was at stake.

"I see. Well I'll just wait with you here."

"I'm sorry, that won't work either. If someone walked in or saw us leaving together…you just have to go. This is something I have to do on my own."

He nodded and opened the door, but just before he walked, he looked over his shoulder and said, "I really do wish you luck."

"Luck has never helped me before, why would it bother now?"

"Because it sees someone who can make a difference." And with that he was gone. She collapsed on the bed next to Jeremiah. She gazed at his handsome face; at least she wasn't alone.

XXXXXXXXXX

She walked through the empty hallways as she ran her hand along the stone, cold walls. No matter how hard she tried he never left her thoughts. She hadn't seen him in a fortnight; not since she had broken the glass. She had healed her hand shortly after he left. She still rubbed the spot where the glass had pierced her skin. She was determined not to learn his name. A name had power, with a name came emotion, and with emotion came her destruction. She was afraid that emotion might come anyway. She had decided to call him her secret keeper, or maybe keeper for short. He had saved her twice and he had never told a soul.

"YOU! I should have known you vile little bitch! Do you have _any_ idea what you have done?" Her mistress's shrill voice cut through her like a thousand tiny knives.

She bowed. She was befuddled by the sudden outburst, "I'm sorry Mistress, but I have no clue what you are talking about."

"You stupid whore! As if you didn't know! King Galbatorix has requested a _pers_onal audience with you!" She sucked in a breath as she heard the news. Everyone knew most people who went to see Galbatorix weren't likely to be seen by anyone else ever again. "I don't know what the hell you did, but I hope he kills you. You were nothing but trouble since they let you out of that prison. The only reason I've dealt with you is because for some reason you bring in a larger profit then the other girls. But I want you to know that I have hated you since the day you stepped into my room. And I want you to know that no one has ever valued you as more than an object, and now, no one ever will." A smug smile sat on her face. "Burn in hell, bitch." She turned on her heel and walked away.

She didn't know how she was supposed to react. Was she supposed to run after her and beat the woman within an inch of her life? Was she supposed to sit in a corner and cry for a few days? Was she supposed to find her Keeper and tell him what had happened? Surely he would know what to do - there he was again; always interrupting. She really was only sure of one thing: Galbatorix wanted to see her.

XXXXXXXXX

A million thoughts should have been running though her head at this moment, but they weren't. She thought of nothing. She knew why she was here; she had hoped otherwise, but the chances of that were slim at best. She had to get through this. She didn't know how, but she had to. She knew she could show nothing; she couldn't be taken by surprise and betray any emotion. She thought of the prison cell. Empty and desolate. The one place he wouldn't find anything, because there was nothing to find. She let herself melt into the cold, moss-covered walls. She became the bleak gray. She made sure there were no cracks in the walls, or light streaming in anywhere. Her mind was completely isolated from any outside source.

The door smoothly opened before her. "Come in." came the simple command. She had never heard a voice so perfectly terrifying. It was smooth, stern and harsh, yet deceitfully gentle. She could tell a soft and almost non-existent accent tainted his otherwise perfect speech.

The prison, she thought; nothing, the prison. "Name?"

She remained silent. Although her face showed nothing, she couldn't speak. This was it; her final moments. This would be the last time she ever said anything. The only way she figured she could live just a few precious minutes longer was to not give an answer.  
"I asked a question." She was too occupied with her thoughts that she didn't notice that he had approached her. She could hear his heavy footsteps but she couldn't think of what to do. His hand came up quickly and backhanded her across her face. "You will answer. And do not lie. I will know."

She thought her voice might crack but it didn't as she carefully pronounced her words, "I will not speak my name. Names are dangerous and I will not reveal it without justifiable reason and cause."

"A dangerous answer for a dangerous question." Maybe it was her mistake, but he actually seemed amused, maybe even pleased at her answer. "Have you any idea what I do to people who do not give me what I want?"

"I do not, but I can imagine that it is not pleasant."

A smile tugged at his lips as he said these last fatal words that would change her existence forever, "Congratulations, you have earned a position as one of my highly respected magicians. I believe it is time we began your transformation. Don't you think so?"

"Transformation? What do you mean?" She was so caught off guard by his declaration that she forgot to hold her tongue.

"Into a proper magician, of course." He could see the puzzled look on her face as he smiled again and turned to walk around the long table. He went to the single chair at the head of the table and sat comfortably into the soft velvet cushion. "Did you suppose I don't personally train all of those who have control of magic? I would be thought of as a fool if I didn't know each and everyone who possesses the power to wield such a dangerous weapon." She just stared at him, trying not to show a thing. Curiosity, however, got the best of her.

"And just what does this 'training' entail?"

"Oh the normal. I guess, first I will make sure you know that I control you. Every last part of your mind and body." She must have let her emotions slip, because the greedy way he looked at her tore her to shreds. She could feel the tendrils of thought caressing her mind; trying to find any crack that would let him in. It would have been so easy to let go, but no, she couldn't. She wouldn't. "Oh, a fighter. Good. I never liked those who broke easily." Her breathing and pulse quickened as she tried to harden her mind. She clenched her fists, until her nails cut into her palms. "And once I am absolutely sure that you belong to me, you will watch as I take the thing you want most. And once you have nothing left to live for, I will give you back to yourself. "She doubled over on the ground, the pain of not letting him in, started to crush her. She put every last fiber of her being into throwing off the probing mind. "And you will still follow my every command." The pain blinded her. She could hear footsteps, but was still startled when they stopped next to her head. "And do you know why?" The pain subsided just enough for her to look up into his piercing eyes. "After I am through with you, you will have nothing else to live for, except to please me."

"no." she wasn't even sure if she had said it out loud or just in her head.

"Because after all of this, I can give you the most important thing in this entire world…" Her eyes watered, and she wasn't sure if it was from pain or sadness. She screamed as the pain came on again, twice as much as before, until finally she could take it anymore. The walls of her mind caved. "…Power."

"_Why would my Keeper betray me like this?" _ This question rattled around her mind for a few seconds. She could hear Galbatorix's smile right before she blacked out.

**AN: Sorry I haven't updated in, well over a year, but I am trying to get back into writing and I hope this long chapter will make up for my overly delayed post. Hope you enjoyed it! Please Review! **


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